


A Song to the Night

by StarlightSquadron



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A lot of feels, A lot of star-gazing and late night thoughts, Capture, Character Development, Character Study, Crash Landings, Eventual Romance, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Galaxy travels, Jedi Training, Knights of Ren - Freeform, Reylo - Freeform, Romance, Secrets about the past, Skywalker Family, Slow Burn, The First Order, minor stormpilot, the resistance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 03:12:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 165,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9949796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightSquadron/pseuds/StarlightSquadron
Summary: It might have begun with something as simple as a song. A song to the night; a song of Light and Darkness.In the chaos of life and death, a hope has awakened.Once there was a girl, left abandoned and alone all her life, gifted with unimaginable powers. Once there was a boy with sorrowful eyes, cursed by darkness. Already the fates of these two people are intertwined in ways they have barely begun to realize. The desert scavenger and the Knight. Their bond could mean the change of everything.Together, they might change the course of the galaxy.





	1. The Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> This story begins a couple of weeks after the last events of TFA, as Rey and Luke return to the Resistance after their stay on Ahch-To. The situation they return to is not nearly as peaceful as they’d expected, however. Everyone is about to be challenged in ways that are as mysterious and strange as they are unpredictable - especially when it comes to the former desert scavenger, now possibly Jedi-in-training, and a certain dark Knight.

Rey could feel the excitement run through her body as they jumped out of hyperspace, lingering at the edge of the Ileenium system.  
  
Calmly, as if she'd had a lot of experience and practice, she slowed down the _Falcon_ to prepare for the forthcoming planetary approach. All the while, she couldn't quite get it into her head. That they were here -- they were back.  
  
Still she could not exactly figure out whether she was mostly excited or nervous about returning. Being away on the world of storming seas and misty islands that was Ahch-To, it had felt as though they were taking a break from all of what was going on.  
  
The Resistance. The First Order. Luke Skywalker. The Jedi… All that had happened, often whirling round and round in her mind like a maelstrom.  
  
_And all there is to come_ , she thought. Now they were returning from the quiet and calm; returning to a group of people and a movement that Rey had only gotten to know fleetingly, but for which -- and whom -- she already cared deeply.  
  
And, whether it was truly excitement, or rather anxiousness, the feeling was like sparks, dancing joyfully within her.  
  
She was sitting by the panels of the freighter, Chewbacca at her side. Not many words had been passed over the journey; in fact, the Wookiee had been unusually quiet for a long while now, speaking only when most necessary. And no wonder the reason.  
  
Grief, and loss -- that constant, over shadowing feeling, she thought suddenly; like some part of you had gone missing before you even realized it. An unshakable feeling of being incomplete. A fractured being, missing a vital part of itself.  
  
She released a light sigh, and prepared the approach for D’Qar.  
  
When Rey thought about it, it was overwhelming how fast her life had changed from one moment to another. So little time ago, she had still been living her life alone on Jakku. Working until nightfall under the scorching sun; collecting parts from old space crafts and selling them for the food she needed to survive.  
  
It had been her life -- a hard life, but as she’d eventually come to realize, a steady one as well. Until Finn had crossed her path in a most unexpected way and accidentally dragged her into a much bigger case, a mission and a quest for the sake of the entire galaxy. It wasn't all Finn's fault though. Actually, it had been BB-8 who’d carried the information that so many people would fight and kill to get -- and for some strange reason or another, the little droid had chosen to stick with Rey.  
  
She wondered what would have happened had their paths, their fates, never accidentally crossed. Though, of course, someone like Luke would claim there were no such things as coincidences.  
  
BB-8 had been the only reason she ever got to become known with Finn at all (though it didn't quite begin in such a peaceful way).  
  
She almost laughed from the memory, and the thoughts about her friend drifted on.  
  
When Finn had told her the truth about his miserable past, she'd felt… Somehow lost and betrayed. She had, at that point, already begun to think of Finn as her friend. Her only friend. That he had dragged her into all this, away from everything she’d known while lying to her all along… Even though, she had to admit, she’d had a feeling of his hiding the truth for a long time.  
  
The truth was, it wasn’t just for him, or for BB-8, that she’d felt urged to move on. To give up everything -- to leave her old life fully behind, if that was truly what she’d done.  
  
She had all along felt it. That sudden inexplicable importance of action; of finding the Resistance, of believing in all the stories, the possibilities, as she had never quite allowed herself to do before. To do something _more_.  
  
Though never could she have, in any way, foreseen the choices she would come to make, the things she would see, all the strange and unexpected things she would meet.  
  
And with it, a darkness.  
  
The darkness that was the past and the present; lurking in the shadows all along. The darkness of an Order, of an inheritance. The darkness existing in a person.  
  
That she, even after weeks of training and talking with Luke, didn’t think she had come much closer to understanding.  
  
Although she was not yet certain -- no one was -- about the true course her destiny would take, the consequences she would come to face, one thing, she thought, stood clear.  
  
Some of the choices had already been made; by herself or by fate. There was no turning back now.  
  
She turned her head to look at her master sitting behind her. Luke had been quiet all the way in the _Falcon_ , and his gaze was directed forward into the darkness of space. She figured he was lost in many thoughts as well; thoughts she couldn’t even begin to guess at. So long time had he been away, so much it must have taken him to prepare to face the people and the dark chaos he’d left behind. It could have been no easy decision. Yet it had been him who’d spoken, a couple of weeks after her arrival on Ahch-To, and said that it was time to return. Return to do his part in the uprising conflict. Return to his sister.  
  
Now, finally, they were entering the atmosphere of the planet D’Qar. The Millennium Falcon soared down through a thin layer of clouds before heading further down, towards the hangars on the surface that indicated the location of the Resistance base. Looking the same as when she’d left weeks before, still in that same place. She wasn’t sure why she found the lack of change surprising, almost eerie. Perhaps because so much had to have changed, even if it was only a matter of weeks. A feeling that, somehow, the Resistance ought to have moved on as well -- changed location, keeping out of sight like prey, always in motion. Looking down now at the unmistakable signs of life, Rey got a peculiar, haunting sensation, like there was a dark, wrathful storm coming and no shelter in sight. She tried to shake off the feeling.  
  
The last time she had been there, it had only been for a short while before she’d headed on to Ahch-To with the guidance of the map -- yet the sight of the hangars filled with transports and X-wing fighters lined up in neat rows still felt like something familiar. The first time she’d seen these surroundings, it had been crowded with people and their joyous energy -- pilots in orange fly suits returning from battle with the spirit of victory, and along with it the darker feeling of sorrow and loss for those fallen.  
  
As she made to approach the ground, she was guided to a particular landing spot by a technician from the hangar, gesturing with his arms to indicate the spot. When the Falcon finally touched ground, she felt how the vessel shuddered and fell still, the sound of the old engines faltering like the breath of a dying creature.  
  
Behind her, she heard Luke sigh faintly, as if silently preparing himself. In Rey’s stomach flared sudden sparks of anxiety, mixing with the feeling of excitement.  
  
In the beginning, she had worried a lot about Finn; the image of him lying wounded and still coming to her mind in every quiet moment. He had still been in a coma when she’d left, and no one had been able to tell exactly how bad his wounds were. _Your friend will survive_ , the Resistance’s medic had told her with a tone of assurance, but it hadn’t been enough to keep her dark thoughts at bay.  
  
Now she felt that worry somewhere within her, but the thrill soon forced it down, making it feel less present. She was soon to see all of them again.  
  
They walked down the ramp of the _Falcon_ in a line. First came R2, the little blue astromech which possessed a surprisingly fierce sense of loyalty towards its master. Then she strode down herself, with Chewbacca walking just behind, the tall Wookiee making low humming sounds, as if in an attempt to bring comfort. Luke came as the last, still in a state of inscrutable silence. It was nothing unusual, but a natural silence that had to come with lonely years of nothing but one’s own thoughts -- only the turmoil within the mind to interrupt the stillness.  
  
She started as someone called joyfully from the opposite end of the hangar.  
  
“REY!”  
  
She searched happily for the source of the sound, then started running almost instinctively towards it. “ _Finn!_ ” Then, not truly able to find something else to say, she asked shakily, “You’re all right?”  
  
He met her mid-way in a big, bone crushing hug, and she embraced her best friend back.  
  
“I’ve never been better,” he murmured close to her ear.  
  
She then turned to look at the next person to emerge from the main building. It was Finn’s pilot friend, a young man named Poe Dameron whom she’d only got to know fleetingly. Though not very large of build, the pilot seemed to have a certain authority in his manners, like he was someone who was used to be in charge. He flashed a crooked smile and waved at her.  
  
“Hey, Jedi. Back from training?”  
  
“Hey, pilot,” she replied airily, then silently corrected herself with the flash of a smile; _Fellow pilot_. She added, “Yes -- I suppose you could say that.”  
  
Poe continued with a half-teasing grin, “You know, Finn practically hasn’t talked about anything but you since he came to consciousness. How brave and strong you are, huh? And how you can manipulate the Force itself --“  
  
She slowly shook her head in dismay, but couldn’t help but grin all the same. She thought of the time, mere weeks ago, when she’d had to make as much use of those unexpected abilities as she could in order to survive. Or… she wasn’t even sure if it had been surviving. She wasn’t sure what would have happened to her, had she not been able to resist, to fight back -- if she had simply been able to give in and surrender to that strange power; that dark, foreign temptation, and the even more inscrutable person who had offered to teach her about it all…  
  
There was a small pause in which her heart seemed to skip a beat, breath catching in her throat as she tried to suppress the memories that began to surface.  
  
Poe cleared his voice and continued, “Those things sound impressive, really -- that is, if it’s true.”  
  
Finn jerked an elbow into his friend’s side -- quite hard.  
  
“Of course it’s true! All of it is true -- you’ll tell him yourself, Rey. And I can’t wait to hear about your time with Luke Skywalker!” He lowered his voice slightly, the look in his glinting eyes intrigued. “How was it, then? What did he teach you about --“  
  
“I’m sure you will have lots of time to talk to each other and tell your stories, all of you,” a voice said suddenly behind them. Rey turned and saw general Leia Organa stand there in the entrance to the hangar, her brother silently at her side.  
  
The general looked the way Rey remembered her. Long hair, dark but for strands of silver, tied in decorative braids around her head. Short and slight of build, but appearing to radiate a certain energy that made her seem greater, significant. _Royal_ , Rey thought.  
  
Yet she had a somehow weary look in her eyes -- they were deepened, darkened by a sorrow in a way that Rey thought they probably hadn’t always been. She knew she could only ever attempt to imagine what Leia Organa had gone through during her life.  
  
Even though, she smiled warmly at Rey. And it seemed that her twin brother’s return and simple presence had added a bit of happiness to her sorrow; a spark of hope.  
  
“I am happy for you all to be back, happier than I can tell,” the general said, her dark eyes locking on Rey’s. “There will be plenty of time to come where we can get to talk about your journey -- now, you may simply go and rest. I’m sure your friends have been waiting long for your return. For now, take simply my deepest gratitude.”  
  
Leia put a hand on the younger woman’s shoulder, and Rey nodded, overwhelmed.  
  
As she looked into the eyes of the other woman, she found herself suddenly imagining the eyes and figure of someone else. Someone who was far away -- and yet, more often than not, had felt strangely, inexplicably close ever since they’d parted.  
  
Someone who was also a Skywalker.  
  
_The storm is approaching._  
  
As she tried to shake off her unease, the general turned to Poe and Finn. “You two may go as well. You are off duties for the remainder of the day.”  
  
And Rey sent the general a faint smile, told her master goodbye and proceeded to enter the heart of the Resistance with her two friends walking beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, this fanfiction was written purely for entertainment purposes; and most of all for my deep love for this world and its characters, who have overwhelmed me, inspired me and -- I believe -- changed my life to the better within this past year.
> 
> Much of this story is already written, but still needs editing and read-throughs. The ending to the story is also far from reached. I will try to post chapters as regularly as possible, and as I consider them finished. (no matter what, we’re in for a long ride here)
> 
> This fic will have multiple points of view and will follow the stories of all the main characters as I imagined them.
> 
> I have tried to write this based off as much canon as possible, but please note that there will be points where I may stretch the canon stuff a bit, so that it fits better into the story.
> 
> I couldn’t write this note without mentioning my dear, wonderful friend, LadyLionhart. Dear, I owe you so much, and I’m not sure how I would have gotten to this point of actually uploading without your amazing encouragement, beta-reading and friendship. Thank you, thank you, thank you forever for all the wonderful chats we’ve had. (and exciting fangirl moments we’ve shared!) I love you to the stars, my sister. <3
> 
> All there is left to say now is: go on, read and enjoy! May the Force be with you, and I hope you will join me on this (exciting, dark, emotional and hopefully epic) adventure!


	2. We Have Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting the second chapter right away, as I thought this next chapter is important to get the story really started.

Chapter Two: We Have Hope

“The First Order is weakened, but they are already restoring themselves with swift speed after the destruction of Starkiller Base. Everything we’ve been able to learn from our reconnaissance suggests that their significant defeat has only made their leaders more determined to regain that lost progress. The galaxy is in upheaval. The destruction of the Hosnian system have caused tremors to reverberate across systems from the Core to the Rim. The systems who had declared their loyalty to the Republic are now unsure of where they stand, and alongside them all the independent worlds.  
  
“Of the Order’s future schemes, we can rely on but rumors and whispers. What our men have heard suggests that they are constructing a brand new major base -- a fortress -- in a smaller system in the Outer Rim. The specifics of location and name are yet unknown.”  
  
Luke found himself standing in a small, windowless dark chamber, its walls lined with panels and humming machines, its tight space currently occupied by several people. His sister had wanted him to take part in this briefing, and he’d thought it was the least he could do. Now half of his mind was paying attention, listening to this talk of military and strategy which all had the note of dim hopelessness from having so little actual knowledge to rely on. The other half of him already longed back for the quiet and peace of Ahch-To; thinking how this room with its dimness and panels and devices was so very different from the views he had gotten used to.  
  
General Organa looked into the eyes of the admiral speaking with the expression of someone who’d nearly had about enough of everyone and everything. Or maybe her growing weariness was only obvious to him because he knew his sister so well.  
  
“The First Order will want to tighten their grip of the systems as swiftly as they can muster their troops and their forces,” a young lieutenant spoke up. “If I were a First Order leader, I’d want to draw as much use of the confusion that has spread galaxy-wide as possible. Strike before people have had a chance to fully realize what’s going on.”  
  
“True, if not for the fact that they have little reason to hurry,” Leia said calmly, instantly drawing the attention of everyone in attendance. “Even without their Imperial-inspired weapon of mass destruction, the First Order still holds the ultimately greatest power in the galaxy. With the Republic fleet out of the way, they have the vastest starfleet, the best vessels and armoury, the largest amount of troops. And those already wishing to oppose their rule must find themselves aware of that. The simple fact remains that, as of now, no power or organization in the galaxy will have any real chance of opposing them. The Order’s greatest opponent remains us; the Resistance --“  
  
She paused, the words unsaid hanging in the silent air.  
  
_And even we may not be enough_.  
  
Leia looked up, her gaze meeting Luke’s from across the room, and he knew his sister was thinking the same as he. That the first encounter; the first real battle that he’d been able to learn about from different people’s telling, had just been the beginning. _And the worst has yet to come._   
  
Luke sighed; a quiet sigh heavy with thoughts and memories of too much war and darkness and destruction, realizing but one thing for sure in the midst of the dim blur. _The war is far from over_.  
  
Leia, frowning and looking at the admiral from before, continued, “Still some of this does not make sense. If the Order would want to make another statement, to seize their chance of control over the systems, having the main part of their forces hidden somewhere in the Outer Rim hardly seems convenient. They must realize the inconvenience of holding their power that way. In the end, they will have difficulty reaching far enough.”  
  
The admiral replied, “General, while it is true that a considerable part of their forces will be stationed or kept at the main fortress, we have confirmation that First Order bases and outposts are appearing in systems across the galaxy, and more in construction by the day. Many of the bases, as well as each their specific purposes, are kept in deepest secret, and our reconnaissance teams have managed only to get the locations of a few. There is a major base or station on the planet Carida; one on Geonosis, the surface of which reportedly still bears damage from the days of the Clone Wars; one on the volcanic planet of Mustafar --”  
  
The admiral named a couple more names of minor planets, moons and systems, none of them stirring up any past knowledge that might be useful.  
  
It wasn’t easy to figure out what Leia was thinking. She stood staring into a moving hologram projected up from the floor in the middle of the room, its bluish glow serving as an additional source of light in the dimness. The hologram now showed a simple map of the galaxy -- any specific location or point of interest mentioned during the briefing viewed by little purple dots appearing to float in the air. Luke watched as his sister sighed, and touched a screen to make the blue hologram vanish.  
  
“Was that all the teams had to report?” Leia finally asked, turning to the young lieutenant. Most of the Resistance leaders and members in attendance had kept their attention fixed on her for the main part of the meeting -- but Luke had also noticed how some of them, especially the younger ones, had let their gazes occasionally drift; their curious attention instead lingering on him, even though he’d hardly spoken a word since entering the room.  
  
“That was what our current sources of intel could say,” affirmed the lieutenant. “Oh, and, madam -- Black squadron leader requested to tell you that ‘they better soon come up with some better assignments than more reconnaissance missions’, and that his squadron is ‘wasting their time on those damning supply runs’.” Then, quickly, he added, “His words, General -- not mine.”  
  
Leia looked at the young man in silence for a moment, then raised her hand in a dismissive wave to the whole room and everyone assembled in it.  
  
“Thank you for your presence. We will get what most we can out of the information we’ve received. You may leave.”  
  
The people in the room bowed and murmured salutes before leaving the room one by one. In the end, only Luke stood left in the shadows, along with his sister.  
  
He looked at Leia’s profile, seeing as if for the first time how the numerous wars and conflicts, the worry and pain, had marked her face. She was older now, a grown woman carrying the memories and struggles of a lifetime, wilder and stranger and darker than most, and yet remaining. Still enduring. He thought they both were.  
  
Luke sighed quietly, thinking he would probably never cease to be awed by her character; her unshakable will, her unwavering strength. Even if she had slowly, surely, lost most of the things and reasons other people would have to continue living -- even if she had gone through things that would have made most people lose their hope -- at least that remained.  
  
The loss showed its signs on her. Yet she still held on to herself; yet she was still strong, for herself as well as for countless other people. Luke knew he was now one of the only people close to her that she had left.  
  
Leia started speaking in a light voice; her gaze still turned away; as if looking at something beyond the walls of the room that only she could see or fathom.  
  
“Our duty is to do as much as it is within our ability to do, to protect innocent people from those who are attempting to tyrannize and suppress them. To fight to keep the violence and terror of those away from the people of the galaxy.”  
  
She turned, and met his gaze. “Strangely, it has never seemed such a heavy burden before. The First Order is yet far from being as strong as the Empire was, but I’m afraid it is only a matter of time before they do -- now that the Republic is blown into fragments. Without the Republic, there is no one left but us, the Resistance, to try to restore order, to encourage more people to fight back… But will people dare to fight, this second time as well? In the end, I wonder, will there be anyone left to believe in the power of democracy; of freedom? Will anyone still dare to hope?”  
  
She paused and smiled faintly at Luke.  
  
“You don’t say much. You prefer to listen and observe, as you’ve always done.”  
  
“I suppose I have grown older and wiser,” said Luke, “and I have learned that listening and observing are sometimes the best ways to solve a problem.”  
  
“Older, wiser…” Leia looked thoughtful. “We should have become both of those things, don’t you think? And yet sometimes I have to wonder if the things we choose to believe in and act upon are any wiser choices than those of the past --“  
  
She paused, flashing a brief smile. “You know, I used to miss the days in the Rebellion. Sitting in my chambers after an exhausting day of appointments, fruitless discussions and horrible politicians -- I would think back -- longingly -- about how it felt to actually achieve something by yourself; to do things every day that actually… mattered.”  
  
“I also used to believe that the whole world went only as far as the outskirts of the Dune Sea,” Luke said, “but then I grew up, and learned that the universe is much vaster and more frightening than I would ever dare to imagine.”  
  
At this she laughed. “It must have been quite some time ago.”  
  
“I believe I was six,” he replied with a smile.  
  
“Mm,” she said, her smile gradually fading as she looked away, her eyes yet again becoming strange, faraway. How he desperately wished he could make her stay.  
  
“But so rarely do we get to keep things the way we want them -- the way we think they ought to be,” Leia said. Then, as if forcing herself back to the present, she looked up and continued, “Now… how about Rey?”  
  
Luke sighed. “How about Rey… Indeed.”  
  
“I assumed you were going to teach her. At least… that was what I dared to hope. The girl has extraordinary abilities -- hasn’t she?”  
  
_And so you also hoped that she could persuade me; convince me of what nothing else, not even myself, had been able to, he thought._   
  
“I have taught her as much as I could,” he said quietly, maintaining a perfect appearance of calm. “She understands parts of the nature of the Force now; she can control it to a certain point. She is not yet ready.”  
  
“Ready for what exactly?”  
  
“Ready to face the only real enemy of all time; the dark side,” he replied, with a certainty as with so few other things. This, at least, after all those years, was something he of all people must know to be the truth.  
  
“But Rey’s strength with the Force is remarkable,” he continued. “She is stronger than anyone I’ve faced in a long time. Most remarkable is the way she is already able to control her powers and hone them into abilities, after so little training and nearly no experience. It is… as if her powers have been simply waiting, just beneath the surface; waiting for the right moment to awake…”  
  
He broke himself off and paused his speculations, once more filled with wonder of what could be about this girl that was so special. That had made him dare hope -- even after he’d once failed so terribly and catastrophically, and had found himself in such darkness that he’d thought he would never again be able to face another living being. A failure so deep and unforgivable that he still now doubted within himself. When Rey had arrived and offered him the old lightsaber, and she’d asked him to teach her to use her abilities, he had eventually accepted -- for reasons he wasn’t sure even he could understand. For deeply beneath that newly rekindled hope, there was the lurking fear that all his fatal mistakes would now be allowed to repeat themselves. The fear that teaching the girl about the Force would only lead to more failures and disaster. Another apprentice lost and abandoned.  
  
He found Leia watching him with a strange, quiet care. A flicker of something that could be doubt. And he hated himself, suddenly; such a powerful feeling of regret. That he was the reason his sister was beginning to doubt; that a great part of the pain and hopelessness that weighed her down had been inflicted by him.  
  
“A hope,” she said. “If fate and the Force is truly in our favor, she could be a bright new hope for many. And how about you, brother? Will you dare to hope, this once more?”  
  
And he answered with the light that, in just the few weeks he’d spent with Rey, he had come to want to trust, to believe in.  
  
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I will hope. Truly, I’m not even sure I’ll have much of a choice.”  
  
For it was hope that he had felt, a whisper of it at last returning to him after all those years. The idea that it might not be lost, not yet fully gone.  
  
That there was still a spark.  
  
She came closer, and they silently embraced each other. He held her carefully, gently, as if his sister was the light, fragile thing that he knew existed within her. He wanted to comfort her; to give her just a slight sense of protection, as he hadn’t been able to do for so long.  
  
“You don’t know how good it is to have you back, dear brother,” she whispered. “Since Han --”  
  
Her voice suddenly got thicker. Her eyes shone as tears filled them, slowly and silently beginning to run down her face.  
  
“-- since Han died, nothing has been the same,” she finished quietly.  
  
Not many people probably would be able to imagine the sight of Leia Organa’s tears. Tears and grief were rarely ever shown with her, hidden behind a nearly impenetrable wall of strength that prevented her from breaking. Nevertheless -- and as even fewer people would realize -- her tears were not as much a sign of weakness or vulnerability, but rather a sign of the pureness that existed in her; the light that was so often her greatest strength.  
  
Luke didn’t say anything out loud, and he had a feeling that he did not really need to; that she would understand him perfectly nevertheless. That learning of the death of one of his best and oldest friends had caused him to feel a pain and a grief like he’d rarely experienced it before, had shaken something deep within him; a piece of him torn loose to never grow back.  
  
Grief -- and with it, guilt. In the end, it was another casualty; another death caused by his failure and abandonment. Caused by an apprentice fallen to darkness -- a lost and lonely boy who had had to endure so much pain before he finally broke. His sister’s own son, but it had been his apprentice; forever his responsibility. 

After a while, they broke apart in silence and together began approaching the door that would lead them outside. They never made it there. As they were half-way across the dimly lit room, the door was slammed open from the opposite side, and the admiral named Statura burst in flanked by two younger lieutenants.  
  
“What is it, Admiral?” Leia demanded, her voice like steel and sounding calm. The tension seemed to sizzle in the air. Even without the darkness in the admiral’s eyes; a barely concealed terror, there was no mistaking the urgency of the situation.  
  
“General Organa, a larger force of First Order ships has entered our sector,” Admiral Statura said gravely.  
  
_No. Not this -- anything but this._   
  
“What size are we talking about?” said Leia sharply.  
  
“As of now, we can’t confirm it, ma’am, but our scanners say at least a dozen troop transports and several TIE squadrons. Possibly a larger vessel too,” the female lieutenant said.  
  
“And the shield?”  
  
“Ma’am, the shield doesn’t work on smaller vessels approaching at light speed,” the other lieutenant said. “Which they must have done, so our scanners couldn’t pick them up sooner. There’s also that,” he added hesitantly, “it has been down on half power since the latest reconnaissance team departed. Which could lead to the conclusion that they’ve been monitoring us for a while, waiting to exploit any opening in our defenses --”  
  
“We have approximately ten minutes until they arrive,” the first lieutenant added.  
  
Luke watched his sister as she turned her gaze to him, silently understanding what they were both thinking: _They knew we were here all along. They have been taking their time, discovering our weaknesses; waiting for the right moment to strike._   
  
“General, we must begin evacuation,” Admiral Statura said quietly.  
  
“It’s Hoth all over again,” Leia whispered, more to herself than to anyone specific.  
  
“No. This isn’t Hoth,” Luke spoke suddenly, forcing a calm like the one she’d had earlier into his voice. “This time, we are prepared. The evacuation preparations have already been made; as you told me yourself just earlier. The people will be ready.”  
  
“The people have been preparing for this for a long time,” said the admiral. “Everything of importance has been made ready secured. Most of our men and women will be ready to leave instantly on your command, general.”  
  
Leia took a breath, and replied, “Then you must inform the other commanding members at once, Admiral.” She continued speaking as she began to walk out of the room; Statura, the lieutenants and Luke following along closely behind her. “Give the order that all men and women should proceed to the evacuation transports as soon as they’ve finished their assignments. All available squadrons will assemble in the hangars and prepare for take-off. Man the canons. We must be ready to open fire before they get a chance to land.”  
  
They reached a point where several of the main corridors crossed, and Statura quickly set off down the one to the left, along with the younger man, tapping something frantically on his data pad. Moments later, a siren began to sound throughout every corridor and room. It was followed shortly after by a magnified voice calling out orders and explaining the situation. The confusion among the present Resistance members quickly froze into calm focus. Immediately, people began moving and changing directions, following their given assignments or proceeding to the hangars.  
  
“General!” The remaining lieutenant looked up from her data pad, alarm written on her face. “They’re coming closer.”  
  
“Yes, I know.” Leia paused, appearing to calculate the possibilities. “We must get the X-wing squadrons in the air to hold them back and take out those TIE fighters. It has to happen fast. To our best ability, we should avoid the First Order landing and getting a chance to infiltrate the base.”  
  
“And if they do? What if it comes to battle within the base?”  
  
“We have to be prepared for that, too,” said Leia. “All fighters must keep their blasters at hand -- and make sure those ill-fit for battle are those who get onto the evacuation transports first. Pass the order.”  
  
“Yes, ma’am.” Her gaze still glued to the data pad in her hands, fingers tapping quickly, the young lieutenant set off down the corridor along with the crowd of people.  
  
As the other woman went, people continuing to stream past them in the corridor, Luke got a sudden impression it took all his sister’s strength not to slide, slowly, to the floor and just give up amidst it all.  
  
“I knew I should have moved the Resistance sooner,” she said to him quietly. “The First Order has known about the base all along. It was always just a matter of time before they would make a move against us -- we knew that. If they win this battle and they get to take over the base, we’re finished. The Resistance will hardly have enough forces left to continue the fight.”  
  
She started walking restlessly back and forth. _Something indeed to return to_ , Luke thought with a sudden weariness, cutting through the desperation.  
  
“You have been preparing the Resistance for evacuation for as long time as you’ve had,” Luke said calmly, remembering what he’d been told about the Resistance, the First Order -- all there had been time for in those brief moments. So little time. “There was nothing more you or anyone else could have done.”  
  
For a moment, she looked at him, as if to repeat the words he’d just spoken in her head. “There is always more we could have done,” she then said, and looked away.  
  
“I just -- don’t understand,” she continued. “I thought we would have more time, that’s as simple as it is. I was being naïve. None of us understood why they bothered to wait for so long -- and now this. Why? Why would they choose to attack just now?”  
  
Luke replied with a sudden clear-headed calm, his voice grave, voicing the thoughts and the dark conclusion that had eventually formed in his mind.  
  
“This is no ordinary attack. If it were so -- if they simply wanted to annihilate the Resistance -- they would have brought five times the forces they have. As we stand now, they would easily be able to arrive with enough vessels and troops to crush the Resistance in one stroke. That is not the reason. Somehow, they haven’t come with the intention of destroying us completely.” This was rather some part of a game, a greater scheme -- and whatever part they unknowingly played.  
  
He lowered his voice automatically, and continued. “They are coming because of our arrival. The Order must somehow be aware that I returned; perhaps they even know about Rey -- that she was with me, that she came back with me.”  
  
He got very silent when the truth suddenly appeared to him.  
  
_He wants her. He wants her abilities. That is why they are here._   
  
Leia, somehow realizing the same, said only, “Luke, you have to get to her. You have to find Rey.”  
  
Before she finished the sentence, he had turned to move swiftly in the opposite direction; feeling the adrenaline rush through his veins like he hadn’t felt it in years, along with something like fear. Not for himself, or his sister, or all the fighters of the Resistance. He knew that, right now, they would not find themselves in nearly as much danger. No, he felt fear -- for Rey. And whatever would happen to her if they took her with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Any feedback would be much appreciated. :)


	3. The Fallen

Rey would still sometimes have nightmares about what had happened on Starkiller Base. Nightmares; or dream-like visions, or merely memories haunting her -- she wasn’t even certain of what they were, and so she simply thought of them as such. Neither was she able to figure out why they stayed so persistently instead of fading with the time that had passed. When she would, occasionally, talk to Luke about it, he would tell her that only she could find the reason or source for the visions (if that was what they were), and that, when they kept haunting her, following her like that, there had to be a reason.  
  
But even if it was truly so, Rey couldn’t think of what the visions -- the nightmares -- wanted to tell her.  
  
It wasn’t always easy to figure out what they were about. Sometimes they would be vague and faraway, not showing something that was specific; more feelings and instincts whispering to her than actual visions. They were dreams that would leave her sweating and gasping for breath when she awoke, restless in a way she could not find explanation for. She would feel hollow inside. A strange sensation of emptiness, something missing, that usually faded away, disappeared with the coming of dawn. Only to return with the fall of night. If not the next night, then the night of tomorrow, or the night after that -- all she could feel certain of was that the nightmares would eventually return.  
  
It had been that way since the incident on the Starkiller. The eerie, frozen world of snow and twilit forests; of the fortress and the weapon it carried in its hollowed out heart.  
  
Her memories from that time were shattered, dark -- and blurry, as if it had all happened in a dream as well.  
  
The capture. The interrogation. The pain, and the death.  
  
In that foreign, dark room where she’d had her mind searched through, she had discovered some important truths about her abilities. And she had later found herself able to actually use those powers; to bend somebody’s mind and will using the Force. Though at that time, she hadn’t understood the nature of her powers; what those abilities were, and the opportunities they brought. She had been terrified, bustling with a strange, hectic energy; acting out of sheer instinct.  
  
There was one scene in particular that kept returning to her mind, standing out sharply in contrast.  
  
A bridge. An infinite pitch of blackness. Two figures, standing so far away and out of reach, faintly, briefly illuminated by the last light of a dying star.  
  
The fresh wounds of the loss kept surprising her with their strength. The sight of Han Solo, falling from the bridge and into the abyss of darkness. Stabbed through the heart by his son, for whom he still cared and loved, even after everything that had happened.  
  
And Rey would still hear the sound of _his_ voice going through her mind like a faint echo, a whisper of a voice as bodiless and inscrutable as her dreams.  
  
_“It’s just us now. Han Solo cannot save you.”_   
  
_It’s just us now…_

Rey looked up, and her mind returned to the present moment.  
  
She was sitting in a large room lit by a sharp, white light. She had no idea of where that room lay in connection with the other parts of the base. There was yet no map in her head over the different hangars, rooms and buildings and their connections to each other, and she assumed it would take some time for her to overlook it all.  
  
But that wasn’t either the reason why she felt overwhelmed by the change of scenery. The Resistance base was huge, but after what she had seen, there was a great need for all that room. There were people everywhere, people of all ages and appearances, humans among people of a several other species, each of them with their specific tasks and assignments.  
  
Rey easily got overwhelmed by many people -- maybe because she had been accustomed to seeing mostly some of the same people over and over again in all of her living years. Not many people lived around the Niima Outpost on Jakku. Occasionally, a few travelers would come by carrying news and stories from outside the system, and those travelers had been her only source of knowledge and information of outside planets. An often vague and twisted one at that.  
  
She had also been surprised and overwhelmed when she left the planet for the first time with Finn and BB-8 in the Falcon. Up in the darkness of space, there was no horizon, no apparent end to the scenery of velvet black; an infinite darkness filled with more stars than she’d ever been able to imagine. So many stars, planets and systems, just in this galaxy, all of them strange to her. From that sight, the universe really seemed to be as endless as people told.  
  
Many of the young people sitting around her were eating their second meal of the day like herself; meeting with and chatting with people they knew, or shouting hellos across the hall to newcomers. The room didn’t look as much like a dining hall as just some assembly chamber that the people at the base used for whatever purposes. Some were eating in a rush, hurrying so they could get back to whatever work they’d taken a break from.  
  
Rey wondered if the young Resistance fighters that were all around all had something in common. They looked like what she would expect for normal young people. But most likely, they had all suffered in some way, lost something or someone close to them. Maybe they had already lost family or loved ones to the uprising First Order; or maybe they were simply the next generation of the rebellion; children of those who had fought in the Alliance against the old Galactic Empire.  
  
She turned around and saw Finn entering from one of the doors leading to the ‘dining hall’. Right behind him, half-way hiding behind his legs, came a droid very well known to Rey -- small and round shaped with orange and white coloring. Her droid friend and companion through dangerous and difficult times, BB-8.  
  
By the sight of Rey, BB-8 made a series of high-pitched beeping sounds of enthusiasm, and started rolling towards her as fast as it was possible for its little mechanical body. She stood up and smiled as she read and understood the sounds coming from the droid. By what she could hear, BB-8 was very satisfied with now being an important data keeper for the Resistance. Also, she thought, for being reunited with the person who’d had the droid in his possession: Poe.  
  
Rey flashed an amused grin by the excitement of the droid and looked over at Finn, who placed himself in the seat next to her.  
  
“I’ve talked to General Organa about my work for the Resistance,” her friend told her. “Since I’m the only reformed stormtrooper they’ve ever gotten in contact with, they might be hoping I keep knowledge of some inside data and information they weren’t aware of.”  
  
He smiled faintly. “Not that I have much to tell them about the First Order’s schemes. I left after my first battle. Everything before that is just… Training. Being stationed on one base and then another. Being told who we were, and how we should think.”  
  
Rey put her hand on his shoulder, not sure of what to answer her friend.  
  
“I’m happy you left. You don’t belong with the First Order,” she said finally. He looked up at her, and she caught the flicker of doubt in his dark eyes -- doubt she would do anything to extinguish, and so she said again, with certainty, “You don’t belong with the First Order.”  
  
And that was something she knew to be the truth -- she knew she would help her friend in getting to his new life the best she could; they life they were meant for.  
  
It was only that little thing -- but nevertheless he smiled at her, grateful.  
  
Rey’s eye then caught the heavy bandage still covering Finn’s wound; the top of it visible above his shirt.  
  
“Do you know how long time it will take before you’re fully healed?” she asked him.  
  
“Won’t be too long, hopefully. I can still feel this dull pain sometimes, but I can move around, handle a blaster if need be. The medics say I’ve healed miraculously fast even with the bacta treatment -- suppose that’s a good thing.”  
  
He laughed shortly, but this smile didn’t reach his eyes.  
  
“Lightsabers are elegant weapons, but they sure make nasty wounds.”

They sat there for a while in comfortable silence. Since Rey had received the order to simply rest after her journey, and Finn was supposed to keep more or less calm in order to regain his strength, neither of them had urgent duties calling to them. Still Rey felt a strange restlessness in her body and mind; an unshakable sense of something approaching, that she wanted to be prepared to face. A part of her mind wanted to push the strange feeling away and stay calm, but another part of her whispered to her that the sensation would be foolish to ignore. She wanted to move. Perhaps then the restlessness would abate.  
  
It’s probably nothing, she told herself, wondering if she was being reasonable.  
  
She looked down onto her sparse dinner plate.  
  
_You don’t truly understand how to appreciate food_ , she figured, _until you’ve tried to survive on one quarter portion a day._   
  
They were both quietly enjoying their free time when an alarm sounded; a long, high-pitched note that caused every soul in the room to freeze where they were standing and fall instantly silent. Within a flash, Rey found herself rising to her feet, suppressing a shiver from the sudden bad feeling rising in her as well as the uncomfortable sound.  
  
The alarm went on, and several of the room’s occupants started exchanging looks of fear and concern. She shot a glance at Finn, and found him staring at her.  
  
Even BB-8 wheeled around and payed obvious attention as a cool, invisible voice began to speak and give out orders to those in attendance.  
  
_“A force of First Order ships has been confirmed to enter our sector. If they continue to approach with their current speed, they will be within firing range of our canons in approximately three minutes. These are the following orders from General Organa: All squadrons will assemble in the main hangar to prepare for take-off. All remaining fighters will secure themselves with blasters or other weapons to protect themselves and their comrades, and then proceed immediately to the eastern and southern hangars for evacuation after their assignments have been completed._   
  
_“The special assignments are the following --“_   
  
The magnified voice continued by naming the given assignments for specific people or teams. For about a second after the main message had sounded, everyone remained standing in their frozen positions. Then the stunned trance appeared to shatter. From one moment to the other, the people in the room started moving, gathering all things necessary before bolting off in different directions. At some point, a younger man’s voice boomed across the vast room, addressing at the same time everyone and no one in particular:  
  
“This is it, you guys. We can’t lose this battle and you all know it. Fight them. Fight them off with everything you’ve got.”  
  
Several shouts of agreement sounded. It was difficult to see if the people were shocked or terrified by the alarm and the message -- if they were, they all hid their panic well as they moved fast to follow their given assignments or make for the hangars. All of them knew their job perfectly and knew precisely what they were expected to do.  
  
Rey was standing still, momentarily frozen in shock. Never would she have imagined something like this to happen so fast -- not now when they’d only just arrived. A part of her mind told her this could not be a coincidence. The First Order, choosing to make a direct assault against the Resistance, just as the long-lost Jedi Master and his new apprentice decided to return?  
  
Finn was watching her, something like panic in his eyes, but she had a feeling his fear wasn’t for himself, or even the Resistance in itself.  
  
“I’m going to look for Poe, he’ll know what to do. Rey -- you have to be safe. If the First Order gets into the base, you’ll be in great danger.”  
  
_We will all be in great danger_ , she thought.  
  
“I have to go and find my master,” she said. “Luke will figure out what to do now.”  
  
Without waiting for her friend to answer, she left. When she got out of the room, she started running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who left kudos and bookmarks for the story, and of course thank you to LadyLionhart for leaving such sweet comments. <3 What would I do without you? ;)
> 
> Any feedback is much appreciated. :)


	4. Fighting the Unfightable

Finn felt like he could have been across the Resistance base in its entirety by now.  
  
He had made it through a countless number of rooms, corridors and hallways, eventually losing what little sense of direction he might have had. The still healing wound in his back, slashing from his neck all the way down to his hip, was now throbbing insistently, a dull pain provoked by his bolting pace. Just a couple of days out of the infirmary, and he had absolutely no idea where to go if you wanted the fastest route to your destination, somewhere down in the maze that was the main quarters of the Resistance. Some of the rooms he’d been through had been empty, already left and abandoned -- other rooms and corridors had been bustling with people, completing their final, crucial tasks, or simply running to get away. It was chaos. And yet, he still hadn’t been able to locate his friend. Among all the people of different ages, species and obligations, Finn had not yet seen Poe; the one man he was actually looking for.  
  
He halted in an overfilled corridor, people continuing to stream past him, most of them going the opposite direction. His breath came in uneven gasps, a sharp pain stinging his ribs from his running, after weeks of inactivity. His wound gave a sudden throb, becoming more painful still, and he cursed under his breath.  
  
He cursed Kylo Ren and his lightsaber. He cursed the First Order for choosing such a damned time to make their move. Then he cursed himself for not making a mental map of the base and its corridors. What a help it would have been, had he at least been able to find the fastest way to the different hangars.  
  
As he stood there, another siren began howling throughout the corridor.  
  
_Damn it_ , he thought desperately. That was the second one. They had to be close. The pilots were probably already assembling in the hangar. And he was wasting his time.  
  
As he looked up, his eyes caught the glimpse of orange down where the corridors crossed; a male pilot wearing flight gear. Finn just barely managed to see which way the pilot was headed -- to the left. Without hesitating, he started sprinting down the way the other man had been headed, realizing he was likely pushing his body to its limits. He found himself suddenly wishing for the comforting weight of a blaster at his side.  
  
He turned down left. This new corridor was broader, and currently swarming with people -- most of them orange-dressed pilots and hangar technicians. About a hundred meters down, the corridor led outside to a massive open space. Suddenly he recognized it as the way that led to the main hangar. Picking up speed, hoping he wouldn’t get in the way of too many people, he bolted towards the wide exit. It was most likely that Poe would already be there, in the hangar, ready to leave ground.  
  
Then he spotted a dark haired person in orange flight suit, emerging from a side corridor few meters ahead of him. A small BB-unit with orange and white colouring came rolling after the pilot at an impressive speed. The man was Poe.  
  
Finn shouted the pilot’s name, and Poe turned around, a perplexed look on his face. He slowed his pace, allowing Finn to move up beside him.  
  
“Finn -- what the hell are you doing here?”  
  
For a moment, he stopped short, suddenly perplexed himself. He thought, _Yeah, really, what the hell are you doing here?_   
  
Poe was looking at him, still standing in the middle of the corridor blocking everyone else’s way, a slightly exasperated glint in his dark eyes. Why had he gone looking for his friend? He could have tried to make his way to one of the minor hangars, get on an evacuation transport along with many others. He’d only gone looking for Poe because --  
  
“I -- I wanted to see you,” he stammered.  
  
Well, that sure as hell wasn’t what he’d intended to say. The pilot looked at him suspiciously, brows raised pointedly.  
  
“Although I’m terribly flattered, you shouldn’t be here,” Poe said. “You are no pilot. Moreover, you’re still wounded. You should be inside the base, or in one of the other hangars… stars, you haven’t even got a blaster --“  
  
“I want to help,” Finn blurted. “I want to do something -- anything that might be useful. The First Order will be here shortly --“  
  
A new siren sounded from the opening to the main hangar. Poe swore and started running towards it, Finn and BB-8 coming up behind. The place was crowded with other people moving fast, going to and fro through the exit.  
  
Being in the Resistance, Finn thought, seemed to be a lot about running. It didn’t matter if it was during a battle or trying to escape something that would most likely kill you. You were always running. _Like you had a horde of wild rathtars behind you_ , he thought wearily. Or other beings, troopers, who could often prove equally deadly predators.  
  
Through the exit, he could see pilots in flight suits standing with the other members of their squadron, preparing their X-wings and quickly doing the last, quick checks before they could go into the air. Someone shouted Poe’s name.  
  
Poe stopped at the doorway and turned to look at Finn.  
  
“Look, I believe in you and your strength, but you can’t be here. It’s too late. Our only hope, only chance, is --“  
  
The pilot stopped short in the middle of his sentence as another sound filled their ears; a sound like rumbling thunder in the sky, or huge engines. Finn vaguely noticed every pilot in the hangar automatically halting in the middle of whatever work they’d been doing.  
  
Filled with dread, he looked out towards the aquamarine sky.  
  
Huge shadows were blocking most of the view to the sky and the sun, coming into focus as the First Order’s large troop transports touched ground in the Resistance hangar. A swarm of TIE fighters circled in the air above, quickly taking out most of the Resistance’s active canons.  
  
_All too late_ , Finn thought, and amidst the daze of confusion and hopelessness, he imagined most of the pilots present must be thinking the same.  
  
Slowly, the ramps of the transports up at the front began to lower. White-armoured stormtroopers marched down the ramps to the ground in strict formation, and he was suddenly, horribly overcome by memories of another time, another situation too much like this one. Immediately, the division began to shoot at the pilots. Many of the Resistance’s men were scrambling to get a blaster so they could return the fire. Soon the chaos in the hangar seemed complete. Already people were falling on both sides, screaming as they were hit by the beams.  
  
The two of them had been standing paralyzed, but suddenly it was like Poe woke up with a start. Quickly, he dragged Finn with him into a nearly hidden niche next to the exit. Here, both men and the droid would be nearly hidden from view from the hangar, safely out of range.  
  
Finn struggled to bring out a full sentence.  
  
“They -- help. We need to -- help them --“  
  
Some escaped pilots ran past them back down the corridor. No troopers followed them.  
  
“If we go out now, same way as those pilots,” Poe said quietly, jerking his head, “the First Order’s men will see us and know we’re here. They didn’t follow those into the base, which means they’re probably waiting for something. We stay, we might figure out what that might be.”  
  
He shot a quick glance out. Finn didn’t feel like he could think properly. Suddenly Poe swore.  
  
“What is it?” Finn muttered, following the pilot’s gaze.  
  
In the bit of sky they could see across the hangar, a large black shuttle had appeared, moving towards the ground. The roar of the space craft’s massive engines filled the air as it landed in the Resistance hangar, its wings folding upward.  
  
Finn whispered yet another curse under his breath. The dark vessel with its massive wings was a sight he would always recognize, knowing its meaning. Both of them would.  
  
As the shuttle’s front ramp slowly went down, the division of stormtroopers stood perfectly still, their masked faces turned towards the larger ship. The ramp finally touched the ground, and a single tall figure walked down.  
  
Finn recognized the man immediately -- after all, this was the person he’d once taken orders from, the man who had given him the wound that still plagued him, who’d nearly killed him. He knew that the man looked even taller and more intimidating when you were standing right in front of him. He’d even seen how this person’s face looked beneath that mask; the black mask that concealed his features completely. His hands were covered by black gloves. A long black cloak hung from his shoulders and swept lightly across the floor as he walked.  
  
“Ren,” Poe whispered.  
  
They both listened quietly from their hiding place as Kylo Ren began speaking to the assembled troopers, his voice modulated by the mask.  
  
“You will kill the remaining rebel fighters,” he began. “Get the base under control as efficiently as possible. You will buy time for us to search the base for the Supreme Leader’s prisoners. If Leia Organa, or any of the commanding members, are still inside, make sure to bring them back alive.”  
  
His unnatural voice deepened, filled with malice. “I shall take care of Skywalker and the girl personally. If any of you harm her in any way, I will make sure you will regret it.”  
  
Ren gave a dismissive wave with his gloved hand, and the troopers immediately started moving.  
  
Finn was standing still, feeling once more paralyzed. He knew he ought to move away, run as fast as he could if he wanted to avoid getting shot or marched down by the troopers.  
  
_I have to warn Rey_ , his brain told him. _I have to make sure she is safe_.  
  
He would come for her.  
  
Without sensing the words Poe shouted in his ear, Finn started running -- again. He knew Poe would find a way out. All Finn could think about was finding Rey.  
  
He ran as fast as he could down through the corridors, occasionally throwing himself down or into some abandoned room to avoid encountering stormtroopers. Or worse. Rey hadn’t told him where she was going, only that she had to find her master. Finn went through all the rooms they had been in together while she was here, hoping to catch sight of her. He wondered what Luke Skywalker would have told her to do. Was she deeper inside the base somewhere, helping to protect it against the intruders? Was she in one of the other hangars, helping to get the evacuation transports in the air as quickly as possible? Maybe she had already left the planet with Luke in the _Millennium Falcon_ , sensing the danger. That would probably have been the wisest thing for them both to do. And not much like her.  
  
Finn was just about to think that he would never reach her when he saw a brief flash of blue light in the corridor just ahead of him. A lightsaber blade.  
  
The passageway was long and narrow, and eerily silent. A vague humming sound was the only sound he could hear.  
  
He then caught a glimpse of a familiar slight figure darting forwards far down the passage, lightsaber in hand. He called her name, shouted it out as loud as he could, but whether Rey simply couldn’t hear him, or didn’t want to pay attention, she didn’t turn.  
  
He had started running again, hoping to catch up, but the distance between them still seemed impossibly far -- and as a door suddenly slid shut behind her, sealing her, and whatever waited in the corridor, off, he could only continue to call her name, knowing no one would answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving some feedback. :)
> 
> MTFBWY <3


	5. The Wars We Wage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well -- this is the inevitable encounter. Enjoy.

As it turned out, it was more like Luke found Rey instead of the opposite. She didn’t have to spend much time rushing through different corridors crowded with people before he came hurrying toward her from the opposite direction, as if he had been looking for her too. 

“Rey, you need to leave this planet as fast as possible,” he said, before she could even get to say a word. “Find Chewbacca -- he will be there as your co-pilot -- and get to the _Falcon_. It’s too much of a danger for you to stay here.”

“And what about you?” she asked, before she could think. He watched her, inscrutably, for a moment.

“I must stay,” he then said. “I have to remain at my sister’s side. This is my own wish as well as hers. I don’t want to leave her to handle this situation alone.”

“But -- I could help,” she urged, not even sure why she doing it. “The Resistance might need my help. And, if the First Order enters the base, my lightsaber. Why not just wait and get onto one of the evacuation transports?”

“The _Millennium Falcon_ will be faster. And most likely safer. You and Chewie would rendezvous with the rest of the Resistance later, once we’re sure it’s safe.”

He placed his hand lightly on her shoulder. “I understand why you want to stay. But it would simply be too much of a risk. You are an important person for the Resistance, or so you could become. With your abilities, too much could depend on you. If the Order should come inside the base, you -- and with you our hope -- would be in greatest danger.”

She replied in a quiet voice, “I understand that, Master. But, Luke,” she couldn’t help but add, “because of your training, I am already a lot stronger than I was. I can protect myself.”

Then, after a thought, she said also, “And, wouldn’t you think it would be my duty to as much as I could to protect other people as well -- and not just myself? Is that not why we’re here, after all?”

Luke watched her, contemplating, obviously forming a decision in his mind.

“Alright,” he then said. She let out a sigh of relief. “Go to the hangars with the evacuation transports. Go immediately, and give whatever help you can. But,” he added, his voice suddenly low, entreating, “promise me this: You will get on the first evacuation transport that leaves. There isn’t much we can do for this base now -- the First Order will arrive, and they will take it. What we can do is try to safe as many lives as possible.”

Rey nodded slowly, showing that she understood. She was about to turn and walk away when he spoke again.

“Rey. Always remember this about the dark side: Its nature is unpredictable and strange -- it will show in all the places you do not expect it to. It will remain unseen and hidden when you try to understand it and fight against it. Always present, in the mind of every Force wielder. You must have the strength to resist the fear and temptation that comes with power -- for times will come when it will try to take you over completely.”

Rey took in the words, feeling slightly overwhelmed. She expected her master to say something more, but he had fallen silent. And the words were then allowed to fade, corrupted and quickly replaced by all the other things going on in her mind just now, by the energy and slight expectation for a battle. 

She nodded. Then she said, as a salute, “May the Force be with you, Master.” 

Luke simply nodded, too, and made a dismissive gesture with his hand that showed it was time for her to go. And so she did.

As Rey hurried through the rooms and corridors to get to the southern hangar, she couldn’t avoid catching bits and pieces of things other people in the corridors were shouting to each other, voices raised and panicked:

_“Their ships have landed!”_

_“Stay away from the main hangar! Our pilots had to give up. Everyone go to the lower hangars and get the hell off here!”_

_“Stormtroopers! Stormtroopers are inside the base!”_

She felt anxiety and panic rise up in her, and tried desperately to calm herself. She reached a point where the corridor split into a fork. During her very brief time here, she hadn’t had much time to get familiar with her surroundings. Nevertheless, she felt fairly certain that to get to the hangars, she had to take the corridor to the left. That was the direction in which most other people seemed to be headed, anyway.

_No_ , something inside her seemed to whisper. _Not that way._

_Take the other corridor._

She shook her head, irritated with herself. No, she was sure it had to be the corridor to the left that was the one. And she was _late_. She had to move now. Yet… Something within her wanted not to follow the corridor that everyone else was taking. To follow the opposite instead. _The other one, the other one._

She turned down the corridor to the right.

Almost as soon as she’d walked a little down into that abandoned part of the base, she knew this was a part she’d never set her foot in before. The corridor was long and bare, but dimly lit unlike most of the base’s interior. The complete absence of people gave her an eerie feeling.

She knew she was late. That she should be headed the opposite direction. That she was probably putting herself into unnecessary danger. The First Order’s stormtroopers were already here, she’d heard people say -- but here she saw neither Resistance members or First Order soldiers, not even a droid. She heard no faraway shouting or screaming from other corridors. The place was silent. 

Then she felt a tug in her mind. At least, that was how she would describe the feeling. Like a call -- a call from one mind to another, one presence to another; a faint call coming from…

A dark energy. A presence she knew. From her dreams. Her nightmares. Her visions. 

_Memories._

_It isn’t real_ , she told herself, _it can’t be real_.

_How? Why?_

All the questions whirling in between each other, each of them quickly extinguished. She thought she heard a voice, too, a whisper that didn’t come from herself, but she wouldn’t listen to it, _couldn’t_ listen. She felt fear grow like a cold knot in her stomach, spreading icily through her like a sickness in her veins. _Darkness._

She reached down for her lightsaber handle, igniting it with a flick of her thumb. It immediately filled the dim passageway with a soft, blue light, and she tried to breathe more slowly. Calm.

Her mind automatically drifted to one of Luke’s lessons: _Usually, you shouldn’t activate the saber if there are no enemies at sight. It will draw attention you do not wish, and you will damage objects, droids, and living creatures around you that you do not want to damage,_ he had said. _A lightsaber is a dangerous weapon to wield. You must control it._

Thanks to the blue light coming from the lightsaber, Rey could see much more of her surroundings. She noticed that the narrow passage in which she now stood led into something that could be a larger room just meters ahead. She took a few, cautious steps forward, and looked around. It was really an unusually large room compared to the rest of the Resistance base; almost a hall, as eerily silent and dimly lit as the corridors she’d come from. She didn’t recognize any of this. Rey suppressed a shiver. The other, dark presence seemed closer here -- the shadows in the corners of the room coming alive. She desperately hoped it was merely her imagination speaking, but that hope seemed frail in the shadow of her growing fear.

She whirled as she heard the sound of a door sliding shut behind her, but it was too late. Behind her was now only a dark wall, the passage beyond closed to her. She took a deep breath, not allowing her panic to show and shatter her self-control completely. _Alright_ , she thought. _No going back that way. I’ll just have to find another way out._

_It’s not like these rooms themselves want me to get lost…_

The whispering sound of a second door broke the silence. 

_Although it certainly feels like it._

Before she could react and move, the only other door of the room -- right across from the first -- had automatically slid shut too. She was stuck. She could see no other ways out.

At the same time, she felt that other presence grow stronger, more insistent than ever. And she couldn’t shut it out, no matter that she tried the hardest she could to barricade her mind, as Luke had tried to teach her during the little time they’d had together. But it hadn’t worked on her bad dreams then. She’d felt almost foolish for even trying to believe it. And it didn’t work to keep out the strange presence now. It was closer. It was here, with her in this room, now.

_Him._

_No_ , she thought hopelessly, helplessly. _Please -- this cannot happen. It must not be true…_

A tall, dark figure stepped out from the shadows.

Kylo Ren looked the way Rey remembered him. He was dressed all in black, his gloves, boots and cloak all dark, and he wore the black mask she remembered from her nightmares. The mask that hid his face completely, changed his voice in a dark, menacing way, made him seem even less human.

Rey reacted immediately by instinct, standing up straight and holding a tight grip around the handle of the lightsaber. The sight of this dark figure before her had caused a tide of confused emotions and thoughts to rush through her. Already it brought back so many memories that she had been constantly trying to hold back over the weeks that had passed, desperately attempting not to allow them to shatter her. Now they all felt clear as glass, and uncomfortably present in her mind. A cold feeling slowly crept over her body, causing her to tremble.

She clenched her jaw, staring silently at the visor of his mask; at the place where his eyes would have been. _Eyes like his father’s…_ Behind him, the shadows seemed to move, whirling and slithering over the floor and up the walls.

She wouldn’t allow herself to waver. She wouldn’t let herself succumb to doubt, or hopelessness, or the terrorizing fear that threatened to break her. Even if she realized that any hope or chance she might have was frail and slight.

She had won the last fight against Kylo Ren, but she knew it had been pure luck. Either that, or some strange, inscrutable intervention by fate. Not only had he been badly wounded at the time, he had also not made an actual try to kill her, only to disarm her. She still didn’t think she fully understood why. She had been weak and untrained, but strongly held up by the discovery of her new powers, and also by hatred and sorrow; a dangerous, all consuming anger for what he had done. At that time, Rey thought she might have actually killed him, had she been strong enough. She had hesitated, there in the forest on Starkiller Base, and before she might have decided whether to end his life, the yawning rift had opened in the ground between them, finally separating them. She had thought long afterwards about what she might have chosen to do if she’d been given the second chance. She hadn’t yet figured out the answer.

Could she kill him now?

She looked at the mask, and thought about how his face had looked beneath it; first when he’d unmasked himself for her during the interrogation, then later, when they’d battled each other on the surface of the collapsing planet. She thought about flakes of snow and ash caught in the dark strands of his hair. She remembered the expressions of fury and hatred in his familiar eyes; the intensity.

_He killed Han. He killed his father._

Rey felt anger and irritation against herself, mixing with the growing feeling of hopelessness. Of grief, over the memories that wouldn’t remain buried and hidden. How could she have been so foolish? Not mentioning selfish and unconsidered.

_I should have left the planet when I had the chance._ Now it was all for nothing.

At the same time, as she thought those things, the whisper of another, strange voice reached her mind. _I do not want to hurt you._

She tensed, once more trying to build defenses around her mind, still watching her opponent with caution and care. Yet some part of her wondered. She didn’t know who that whisper might have belonged to… If not him. Still, the words surprised her.

Kylo Ren started speaking at last, and the words he spoke through the visor of the mask made her almost convinced that those other words couldn’t have been spoken by the same person.

“Scavenger. So we meet again -- at last.”

Slowly, he walked towards the center of the shadowed room. He showed no sign that the injuries she’d inflicted on him weeks before affected or bothered him in any way.

He stopped when he stood in the hall’s very middle, mere meters separating them. Some part of her felt convinced this had to be yet another nightmarish vision, even if they had never been like this before -- that they couldn’t really be standing here, like this, so soon after.  
  
He cocked his head slightly, attention still fixed on her, appearing calm and thoughtful.  
  
“You are born with unusual powers, and they are still just awakening in you… Yes, for a poor Jakku scavenger who’s spend her entire miserable life salvaging parts, you certainly are intriguing --”  
  
She felt a flare of anger inside by his words. He paused, and in the total silence following his words, it would seem that time held its breath.  
  
After a moment, when he spoke again, she thought it was with an almost puzzled tone in his voice, though it was nearly impossible to figure out.  
  
“But who _are_ you…”  
  
The question immediately began to whirl in her mind, bouncing off memories and near-forgotten thoughts, creating endless echoes -- a question that she had been asking herself so many times, it had now become a constant part of her.  
  
_Who are you… Rey?_  
  
_Rey._   
  
Her name…  
  
Rey. _I am Rey_ , she thought.  
  
For now, that would have to be enough.  
  
His head was still tilted slightly to the side, and he must be looking at her like she was some riddle or equitation that he didn’t know how to solve. It was impossible for her to figure out what he was thinking when she could not _see_ him. She imagined his face must be drawn into a thoughtful expression beneath the mask, his brow vaguely furrowed. Then afterwards, she didn’t know why she’d imagined it -- from what little she knew of him, he wasn’t someone to show only mild emotion of any kind. He was a raging storm, led purely by instincts, driven by dark and passionate emotion; the opposite of a Jedi.  
  
“Why are you here?” she asked, her voice sounding stronger than she felt.  
  
He was inscrutably silent for a moment. Then, slowly, he said, “I am here by the Supreme Leader’s wish. He has shown great interest in you, and your powers.”  
  
“So you want to take me with you,” she said. “Back to your master.”  
  
Rey forced herself to keep her voice from faltering, her gaze not wavering from the place where his eyes must be. “And if I agree to follow you now, you will leave the Resistance behind, causing the people no more harm? If I follow the wish of your Leader, and the First Order, you will do no harm to me either?”  
  
He gave a light, affirmative nod.  
  
She took another deep breath. There were only the two doors out of this room, as far as she knew. They were both blast-secure doors, and probably sealed. She might eventually be able to figure out a way to get one of them open -- but she would need to buy herself some time.  
  
“Why did you offer to teach me?” she asked him now, the curiosity in her voice earnest. Why had he? What had made him do something so rash and unexpected, in the midst of the battle? “That night on Starkiller.”  
  
This time, he seemed genuinely surprised by her question. But once again, she could only make a guess at the feelings his face would be showing.  
  
“I was interested in you as well,” Ren answered. “I was interested in what I could sense from you. What I could see in your mind… And the things I couldn’t. You made me become… _aware_ of things that I’d never been aware of before.”  
  
She suppressed a shiver, not sure whether what she felt was surprise. Truly, she didn’t know what kind of answer she would expect. How she would have expected him to be. She wasn’t sure this was it.  
  
Then she straightened her stance, holding out the lightsaber still glowing in her hand.  
  
“You will not bring me to your Leader,” she said with fury in her voice. “And I would never follow you willingly. Because your Supreme Leader is _wrong_. The First Order is wrong -- _this_ is not the right way of doing things.”  
  
For a moment, his body seemed to tense, and she couldn’t decide whether it was with anger or amusement. Maybe both.  
  
“I should have known that this would not be easy,” he said. “But you will follow me. And if you won’t come by your own will, I must _make_ you come.”  
  
_You know I can take whatever I want._  
  
Rey shuddered as if she felt cold. She raised her glowing lightsaber up before her, preparing to shield herself the best she could. Preparing to fight back. Across the room, Kylo Ren activated his cross-guard saber as well; the vicious red blade crackling and burning. They lit up in the dark, like red and blue torches.  
  
He made the first move.  
  
She was immediately overwhelmed by the speed with which he struck. It was inhuman; a being momentarily made of dark winds and shadows, rather than flesh and bone. Within a heartbeat, he had crossed the distance between them, and she barely had the time to jerk up her arm to stop his attack.  
  
Her lightsaber clashed with his, the sound of the two blades like the strike of a lightning bolt.  
  
For a moment, as they stood there holding each other in check, she thought she could see right through the mask’s visor, to the fiery eyes beneath. That she saw through him. He was unnaturally strong, and it took all of her willpower and strength to hold him back. Then she realized that they weren’t holding each other in check. He was keeping _her_ in check. Making her use up her energy by concentrating everything on her defense. Of course he wouldn’t be trying to kill her, wouldn’t be attacking her with all his strength. He needed her alive.  
  
And he was _playing_ with her.  
  
She broke away, just as he moved an almost casual step back. He flicked around the cross-guard saber with a small movement of his wrist, his focus not wavering from her for a second, appearing almost calm.  
  
_Bastard_ , she thought. _I should have injured him more severely._  
  
_Maybe I should have killed him when I had the chance._  
  
Something within her recoiled, even as the thought materialized in her mind. She became momentarily distracted, so that she almost wasn’t prepared with a defense when he struck again.  
  
They circled around each other, her gaze constantly fixed on him and his movements. Still he moved with that same, predatory ease that almost felt familiar, not a single of her own movements escaping his attention. Sometimes he would strike, attacking her in a way so she could do nothing but try to hold him off using all of her strength. Even as she knew, deep within herself, that he wasn’t using all of his strength. Probably far from it. The thought of it made her feel helpless and infuriated. She knew he was simply trying to tire her, exhaust her with every little extra step she had to take.  
  
And still it required all her efforts. His masked face revealed nothing about his intentions, so she looked down at his hands and feet, trying to react on his smallest movements.  
  
The situation felt strangely intimate. The two of them standing across from each other in the dark room, lit up by the lightsaber blades. The silence, almost complete but for the sound of their breathing, over the vague hum and crackle of the blades. It felt as though they were suddenly the only living creatures in the world; the only pinpoints of brightness in a dark space. And there was nothing but heartbeats.  
  
_Even his thoughts are silent_ , she found herself thinking in the midst of it. As if his thoughts, his strange dark presence, were usually that living thing, existing alongside hers, enveloping her own with their ebb and flow.  
  
The adrenaline was rushing through her body, her heart beating frantically in her chest. She was terrified of the speed with which he moved when he attacked; as if, for a brief moment, he ceased to be a human of flesh and bone.  
  
Rey considered herself a fair fighter. She had been good at handling her quarter staff back on Jakku -- and she’d already started to feel familiar with the weight of the saber in her hand. But with so little training, without an opponent who was fatally wounded, without that otherworldly surge of anger and power keeping her standing, she was no match.  
  
Ren attacked her once again, and she prevented it using all of her strength.  
  
They moved together in what might have been a dance.  
  
Sometimes there was only an inch to separate them; sometimes they would back several meters away from each other before they met again in a deadly encounter. The red and blue blades whirled in the air around them, sparks flying, until she thought it was all she would see when she closed her eyes.  
  
Panic and hopelessness was beginning to rise up in her. Still he was attacking her ceaselessly, and didn’t give any impression of weariness and exhaustion. And still she had the feeling that he was holding back. _Why?_ she thought exasperatedly. Why not just end it now?  
  
The only thing she had in advance was her modest size. He was much taller than her, which occasionally gave her a chance of evading his attack. Even though, she could find no opening in his defenses; no chance for her to make an actual move against him.  
  
She was beginning to feel the lightsaber as a heavy burden in her arms, her shoulders and back aching.  
  
She tried to clear her mind; to reach some sense of calm. Within herself, she tried to remember the words she’d sometimes heard Luke speak as he meditated: _The Force will be with me. The Light will be my guidance. The Force shall give me strength._   
  
And suddenly, as though she was looking through the haze of exhaustion, fear, hopelessness, she realized an opening in his defense.  
  
Moving faster than she would have thought it possible, she lurched forward, her lightsaber aimed at his exposed shoulder. He immediately drew back -- but not before the blue blade had grazed the top of his arm, cutting through the black fabric.  
  
Kylo Ren took another step back, clearly surprised by her attack. It was hardly a wound, nothing severe, yet Rey couldn’t help but feel some of her confidence return -- just a spark of hope…  
  
Then he moved forward, his hand holding the lightsaber slashing out --  
  
She felt the burning pain in her side before she’d even had a chance to gather her defense for the attack. Already her sight was beginning to fade… The wound might not be fatal, but she sensed that it was deep. The pain was white-hot and glowing, like a red fog clouding her vision.  
  
She felt her knees buckle beneath her, and she collapsed to the cold floor, her legs failing her. The lightsaber fell from her limp hand.  
  
And her vision had started to blacken…  
  
She vaguely saw the shadow of Ren, walking towards her, looking absurdly tall from her position on the ground. Her thoughts were a haze, her sight blurring… She saw him kneeling down beside her…  
  
When the darkness in her vision cleared again, she sensed white all around her. She didn’t know where she was. There were men in white armour, towering over her to all sides… And suddenly, the white was interrupted by a gleam of silver. _Captain Phasma_ , she realized briefly. The commander of the stormtrooper army.  
  
She faintly registered male and female voices speaking, one cool and metallic, one deep and menacing. Her mind was foggy and her entire body hurt… She was too tired to make out the words in their discussion.  
  
One sentence cut through her haze, loud and clear as though the dark-clad person with the mask was speaking right next to her ear.  
  
“No. Give the order to retreat and leave the planet at once. We have what we came for, and we shall waste no more time.”  
  
She knew those words had meaning. She knew all of this had to mean something, had to be important… But she was too tired, and the floor seemed so oddly soft --  
  
She must still be lying on the floor somewhere. Or perhaps it was someone else’s arms, carrying her…  
  
From one weak heartbeat to the next, she was being hauled to her feet by ruthless hands, two stormtroopers dragging her useless body between them up the ramp leading into a large vessel…  
  
Suddenly, in one bright moment, Rey felt it as though whatever was left of her strength returned to her, rising up in defiance, mixing with the feelings of fury and shame.  
  
She kicked and thrashed, fighting to make them let go of her, her throat raw from screams she couldn’t hear herself. Then, suddenly, it all stopped. Her vision blackened. A strange darkness flooded her mind, embracing her like a lover -- and with a treacherous feeling of relief, she allowed herself to give in to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Any feedback would be much appreciated. :)
> 
> Oh, and things will be getting a lot darker and angstier from here. We're in for an emotional ride.


	6. The Fire in Our Veins

Rey woke up and sat up straight so quickly it made her feel sick, her heart hammering in her chest. She then noticed a few, simple things at a time. Firstly, that the pain in her side was much more bearable now; someone had put bandages on her wound, but the sudden movement still made her body feel like it was being penetrated by a thousand sharp needles. 

She grimaced. Her head was heavy on her shoulders, and her mind felt strangely foggy, as though she had woken from a sleep that was unnaturally deep. She tried to breathe in deeply, and her eyes scanned her surroundings.

She was sitting on some sort of bed. Or it wasn’t exactly a bed, more like a plain flat of steel that rose from the ground. She was in a small room with almost no light in it -- it was so dark she couldn’t sense what was hidden in the corners of the room, or the chamber or whatever it was.

Perhaps because of her still foggy mind, it was only now that Rey sensed the person sitting next to the bed. He was looking directly at her, and she wondered for a moment if he had been sitting there all the time, watching her sleep.

Kylo Ren had taken off his mask.¨

The memory of his face was clear in Rey’s mind. She remembered all of his features very well; the surprisingly soft lines his face consisted of, rather than harsh, sharp ones; the pale complexion of his skin, and the wavy dark hair that framed it all. Above all she recalled her astonishment the moment he had first unmasked himself for her – that such soft looks, almost gentle, could be hidden beneath the monstrous visor…

He didn’t look much like his father when Rey looked at him like that, his features reminded her more of Leia’s. Except for his eyes. They were dark and much like Han Solo’s, she suddenly thought with a pang in her chest – but where Han’s eyes had been vividly glinting, often with a spark of humor or sarcasm, these eyes seemed almost sorrowful; the look in them deep as a well.

These eyes were shadowed, as inscrutable as the very man to which they belonged. She found that it was almost alluring… She found herself wanting to get closer to the person behind those eyes, wanting to find clarity, or reason – and yet, she thought, one could easily get lost among those shadows, lost and gone forever…

_No._

The sting of pain in Rey’s chest, woken by the thought of Han Solo, was slowly increasing in strength. It was no physical pain like the one in her side, but another kind, deeper and far more shocking. She hadn’t known the legendary pilot for a long time, much less known him _well_. And yet here, sitting next to her was the person who murdered him.

A wave of something odd flooded her, as a mixture of confusion, wonder, puzzlement.

_Wonder._

It wasn’t difficult to imagine Kylo Ren, the creature in the mask doing such a thing. But this person bore no mask, no, this person gave not the slightest impression of being a _killer_ … Had she not _known_ , had she not for herself witnessed the many emotions that could overcome the now utterly motionless figure, she might have thought such resemblance impossible.

But she _did_ know. Stars, he was the one who had wounded her, then placed her in a state of unconsciousness and brought her here.

And yet, still now, she frustratingly found the person sitting before her to be something that she hadn’t even begun to understand.

A mystery – a web of darkness and secrets that she could not unravel.

They were watching each other, with wariness, something inscrutable. None of them spoke.

Now she noticed something new in his face. A harsh, terrifying and still fresh scar cut all the way down across his features; from his left brow bone and down across his cheek. As if he noticed what she was looking at, he turned his head away, and spoke for the first time.

“Don’t… Don’t look at it,” he said, in a vague, strangely monotone voice. “You did it to me.”

And Rey remembered that. It was her lightsaber that had slashed deeply in his face, and she remembered the sight of him lying on the cold earth, wounded and weak of the blood loss, as a deep, endless rift opened in the very earth between them.

He spoke again, his voice still having a strange strangled sound to it, a note of something she couldn’t identify.

“I never show my face anymore. Not to anyone.”

Feeling puzzled, Rey asked the first word that came to her mind.

“Why?”

He watched her strangely and constantly, as though she was something he couldn’t truly comprehend.

“This is the face of the one I was before, and that is not how people should see me now. When I’m wearing the mask, people think of me only as what I have become. They look upon me only as Kylo Ren.”

Rey was not quite sure what was most powerful in her: the slight voice inside her that told her she ought to keep as far away from this person as possible; or the curious part of her that wanted to know why he was suddenly talking like this. And so she ended up asking again the simplest and perhaps most obvious question:

“But why to me, then?”

Oh, how his constant, inscrutable gaze unnerved her. She strived to remain strictly composed, as she returned his appraising look.

“Why would I hide myself away from you?” he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “What would it matter? When I know that you have already _seen_ me… Haven’t you, scavenger?”

He went quiet, and suddenly Rey was filled up with a new feeling, something so burning and powerful that it overwhelmed her. _Hatred_ against him, who hid his face so no one would ever look upon him, look into his eyes and recognize him for what he truly was…

She thought back, remembering their duel back on D’Qar… Where was she, anyway? Her body felt as though she could have been asleep for a week… Had it been mere hours since that battle? Days?

She thought of the way he’d appeared then, wearing the mask, and the way he’d easily defeated her… So much of it seemed blurred to her memory already. She thought of the way they’d fought and moved, as if in a strange, deadly harmony -- the unexpected thoughts and emotions that seemed to flow between them, suddenly intensified.

“So you are afraid of being recognized, _exposed_ in front of the people whom you can control with your powers?” she snarled with every thread of contempt. “At least you dared to look your own father into the eyes _before you killed him_.”

She put extra pressure to the last words, and… Was not at all met by the reaction she had expected. Not having thought of how she acted, of the words she flung directly into his face, she would have expected dark anger, wild, uncontrollable fury…

He almost recoiled from her, his face hardening and darkening as though the four words had been stabs with a blade.

She continued mercilessly. “Will you deny what happened? Will you deny what you did, when I was _there_ , when I _saw_ it happen –“

“I will not… _Deny_ ,” he whispered, his features distorted into a painful grimace. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the pained expression vanished and was replaced by stony resolution.

“I know what I did,” he said. “I had no choice. Han Solo was no father to me, because I was no longer his son. That part of me is gone – dead, and lost.”

Something whispered lightly towards her… A thought that was not her own.

_And it will never return._

But the whisper of a mind didn’t feel important right now. For Rey had now realized something; a thought that was as odd and unsettling as it was unexpected:

Kylo Ren had murdered his father – and he was devastated by it.

She had to look away. Her chest felt like it was burning. She felt the hot dampness of tears streaming slowly from her eyes. _Damn it_ , this was the worst moment for her to show that kind of weakness, and yet she simply couldn’t get herself to care.

She finally looked down at his hands, having no wish to meet that inscrutable gaze any longer. She now noticed that he was holding something metallic. It was her lightsaber.

“This lightsaber…” he said. “Luke Skywalker gave it to you, didn’t he?”

She answered stiffly and plainly, trying to keep her voice under control.

“Yes. It belonged to Luke –”

“And to his father before him.” He looked down at the weapon with a strange expression in his face, as if he was trying to make a decision, his gloved hands tightening their grip around the handle… There was indecision in his eyes, a flicker of something dark, longing.

Then he put the lightsaber on the bed.

“To show you that I trust you, and that I do not intent to hurt you,” he said flatly, and he stood up and started walking out of the room, just like that.

Quickly, as if the question popped into her mind just now, Rey called, “Wait… Where am I?”

He turned halfway around to look at her, a new strange glint in his dark eyes. She had half-way expected him to refuse to answer, but again he surprised her.

“We are in the main fortress of the First Order, on a planet known as Vennarn. You probably won’t have heard of it before. It’s small -- insignificant to the knowledge of most.”

Rey couldn’t help herself. “Some might think you would be utterly foolish to tell me such things. Can you imagine what it would cost you – say I escape and manage to bring information back to the Resistance?”

He walked towards the door that led out of the room. Just when he reached the doorway, he answered with a plain voice, and his apparent indifference seemed so much more frightening to her than the dark anger she knew he was capable of. A shudder of cold ran through her body.

“This time, do not expect me to let you go.”

And then she was alone.

Rey leaned back and closed her eyes. Different feeling kept overpowering her -- shame, regret, despair.

She had been so foolish. Why did she choose to stay at the Resistance base? If she had just listened to her master and left at the moment he suggested it, she could have been far away by now, and she would have Chewbacca as company and the _Millennium Falcon_ for her use.

In short, she would be about a thousand times better served than she currently was. The situation would be utterly different; she would have been able to go back and help the Resistance, as she was supposed to.

Be the hope they’d expected her to be.

Was she really so reckless, so desperate to act a hero?

Was she truly worth so little?

But another thought suddenly came into Rey’s mind. She vaguely remembered bits of a conversation she’d overheard between Kylo Ren and Captain Phasma, back when she was still drifting in and out of consciousness. He had given the order to retreat. Which had to mean, leaving the remaining fighters of the Resistance to their own fates, rather than hunt them down one by one. Which meant hope, she quickly thought to herself. There had to be hope.

For some strange reason, Kylo Ren had decided to leave the Resistance alone for the time being, all because – or so it undeniably seemed – Rey was more significant to him.

If she had not been at the base -- if she had left in the _Falcon_ , she would have been safe and ready to help what would have been left of the Resistance. But what if the First Order had decided to take on the rebellion with the full force of their strength, merely as a show of force? There would have been nothing for her to return to. Maybe they would all have been dead or captured. Leia, Finn, Poe…

For some reason Kylo Ren had thought Rey to be more important than any of them… And once again she wondered what the First Order would do to her, now when they had her at the fortress. Now when she was in the mercy of him, and, presumably, also his master. Now when her chances of escape back to freedom had hardly ever seemed slighter…

Rey made a decision for herself. She would not give up, not even now. With resolution, she realized that right now, her most important task was to find out as much as she could about the fortress, about the First Order and their schemes, and also (she added for herself) about Ren himself. If she ever got away from here (and she had to still believe in that, she forced herself to believe), it would be the most valuable information to help the Resistance.

A simple, yet so meaningful task was what she would need to stay clear-headed.

And there was something even more important than finding information. Rey did not let herself be fooled; she knew what they would try to do to her if they didn’t kill her.

Kylo Ren, with his Master, would try to turn her Force to the dark side.

She had talked to her master about those things – about the two-sided nature of the Force that always had to be in balance… About how the Jedi could strengthen the power of it by using the light side of the Force; about how servants of the dark side could tear the very balance askew… Therefore, the ability of using the Force should always be handled with utmost care.

And she could not let such a thing happen. She remembered what Luke had told her about the dark side.

_You must have the strength to resist the fear and temptation that comes with power._

Rey knew how to be careful. She knew how to be strong with the support of hope… And she could hold on to the light.

She simply had to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So -- things are definitely about to get dark, twisty and strange. (to say that I'm excited about the next couple of chapters would be an understatement.)
> 
> Thank you so much for the hits, bookmarks and kudos. It's wonderful to know that some are reading along. :)
> 
> And special thanks (and hugs) to LadyLionhart, who beta-read these next couple of chapters. Your encouragement and excitement has been absolutely wonderful. <3 THANK YOU


	7. Lost Stars

Kylo Ren was standing in the center of a majestic hall made of stone, which in itself was placed in the very core of the cold fortress. It was merely one of several halls all left mostly abandoned and cold, all with their separate uses, but which in unity could be seen as the fortress’s shadowed heart.

His Master was before him, and now the Supreme Leader spoke to his apprentice:

“You wanted the girl, Kylo Ren, and now you have her as your captive. After all your struggles in order to retrieve her. The question that remains… is how you plan to execute the control, the _dominance_ required for her to be of any use alive.”

Supreme Leader Snoke’s voice was slow; deep and rumbling, magnified still by the impressive echo reverberating off the stone walls. The sound reminded Ren of a thunderstorm, or of rocks crashing against each other in the death wave of an avalanche. And as Kylo Ren was standing in front of the Leader, he appeared himself as small before the looming figure of the latter, whose hologram was huge and monstrous and set on a pedestal, on a throne of iron.

Kylo Ren kneeled down in acknowledgement of the other’s might, and answered his Master with strength in his voice.

“As I said previously, my capture of her at this early time will give us our needed advantages. She has had time with Skywalker -- precious, crucial time for her to become familiar with her strengths. But not enough to make her a Jedi.”

“Yet again I question your indetermination to simply end her at this moment,” the other said. “You have her with you in this fortress. Locked away in a cell, she is at your mercy, your control. Take her life now, and we will have eliminated the threat of the rise of yet more Jedi; of a possibly dangerous follower to Skywalker’s single stand.”

Silence fell between the two figures, and the only thing Ren heard was the sound of his own heart pounding.

“Need I remind you, Kylo Ren,” the Leader continued dryly, his words laced with a looming threat, “that had you not met defeat in the forests of Starkiller Base, this girl would have been of no concern to us whatsoever. Had it not been for your _failure_ , she would not have had the chance to escape, and thus further encourage Skywalker in his return.”

The words, though spoken slowly, calmly, felt like blows. Accusation. Regret.

“You must be patient, my Master,” said Ren plainly. “Give me more time with her. She is strong and determined, but like everyone else, she can be broken by the right means, with the right methods.”

The Leader watched his apprentice, constantly, unwaveringly, and Ren felt it as though those dark hollows of eyes were seeing straight through his mind, reading and contemplating whatever was to be found there.

When his Master spoke again, the tone was close to amusement.

“So you want to make this girl a Knight? To steal away Skywalker’s learner… and make her your own. How daring. A challenging move. A final act of spite, I wonder -- as a salute to your former Master?”

Ren answered with coldness, with a strength like perfect assurance.

“Supreme Leader, you are my one true Master. So has it been meant from the very beginning; so shall it remain until the end.”

“The end… indeed,” the Leader mused. Snoke leaned forward. His eyes were empty, hollow and for most utterly inscrutable. The gaze from them pointed directly at his apprentice as if they could see all the way through him, penetrate him with their ancient knowledge of several ages.

Kylo Ren thought one could be sucked into that darkness, drown in those hollows if your mind was simply not strong enough to resist.

Few were strong enough.

“So assured you sound, Master of the Knights. So unwavering. Always filled with determination… Yet have you truly proved yourself, Kylo Ren?”

“My devotion to the dark side is complete.”

“Devotion, my apprentice, is one thing, but the human mind is weak and deceiving.”

“I killed Han Solo,” snapped Ren, emotion rising to the surface of his mind despite himself. ”Master, I passed that test as it was put before me; yet you still hold doubts of my devotion and strength, of my certainty?”

Snoke remained silent for a moment, calmly assessing the young man.

“I should be the last to doubt the mind of my own sculpting,” said the Leader, still contemplating. “I, who alone saw the promise of you… who alone knows and understands your full power.

“You carry the knowledge and awareness of the light, combined with the infinite wisdom of the dark side of the Force. To have the dark and the light, so uniquely combined within one being, could be a creation of power rarely seen…”

Ren silently waited for his Master to continue, but no more words came.

“Let me continue my work with the girl,” he insisted after a moment of silence. “Within her dwells powers that are out of the ordinary. If she could be treated and bent adequately, those powers would belong to us. She would be made to renounce Skywalker forever. She would become fully a servant of our cause, with the right means of training.”

The Supreme Leader had once himself believed in that as a possible method, attentive to that eventual promise of a new, powerful warrior. Always speculating, weighing the gains of keeping the girl alive versus the possible dangers and threats, Kylo Ren thought his Master must be concluding that the former would not be worth the latter. That Snoke would believe an untrained Force-sensitive, although unexpected, to be insignificant compared to the remaining threat of Luke Skywalker. Alive, powerful and arisen as the Jedi Master was, to a war that was so much simply between Skywalker himself, and the Dark Leader and his Order.

So after all, it was unexpected when his Master said, “I shall leave the fate of the girl to you, for now. After all -- since you have now completed your own training, I will trust it to you to control her powers as she discovers them. Keep her in this fortress. Keep her under your constant watch, Kylo Ren, for we must maintain all awareness of a being who had learned from Skywalker.” The looming figure of Snoke leaned forward, bracing a hand against his chin in a position of considering. “You know what must happen if she takes as much as one step away from the path of your control. If it appears that her powers are not to be leashed or contained.”

Ren swallowed, but lifted his chin high. “I acknowledge it, Master.”

“These are hazardous times, my apprentice,” the Leader said slowly. “All approaching threats must be met with swift ruthlessness and brutality. Everybody who steps out of place and opposes us must be adequately punished. And all the strange, new powers that are beyond our domination; all things that will threaten to remove our attention from the important matters at hand, must be instantly eliminated.”

Kylo Ren’s voice was cool, even. “I understand, Master.”

The monstrous hologram flickered as the figure it portrayed leaned back. The Leader then waved his hand in a casual gesture toward his apprentice.

“Rise, Kylo Ren.”

Ren rose from his kneeling position. Moving fluidly, he gave away no sign of the dull ache that sparked through his leg from the long contact with the cold stone floor. It had been another test, he realized. To demand that he remained bowing to his Master, that he stayed in the position of surrender that was rightful and fitting. To show that he made no question against his Master’s continuous, absolute dominance.

And within himself, he was relieved. The immediate testing was over; his proving himself and his intentions accepted to be adequate. And his plans, his proposal had been accepted, too. In some way or another.

Yet it was not entirely over.

The Leader said, “If you should succeed in your attempt to train her -- if, together, we could turn her Force towards the dark side, our greatest enemy would still exist to oppose us. And yet the Knights and our troops continuously fail to retrieve any clues whatsoever of his whereabouts. Kylo Ren, _where_ is Luke Skywalker?”

Already he could feel the accusation striking him; yet this, too, was nothing that he had not expected.

“As we already discussed, Master, we were unable to track his and the scavenger’s location in their continued absence from the Resistance and Leia Organa,” Ren said. “Our spies picked up information of their position only when they were returning to the rebel base on D’Qar. As you know, I led the strike force against the Resistance in the Ileenium system.”

Snoke inclined his head in thought. “The Resistance had made an unwise decision to linger in the system where we knew their main base to be located. Yet it still turned out to their advantage. Your troops managed to take the D’Qar base, but with minimal casualties on the side of the rebellion.”

“They had received warning that we were approaching,” admitted Ren. “As such they managed to evacuate most of the base’s inhabitants.

“We failed to track and retrieve Skywalker during our time on the ground and within the Resistance base,” he then said. “If our sources serve us rights, he ought to have returned with the girl -- but he must have either disappeared before our arrival, or managed to conceal himself with efficiency. The presumption would be that he is currently in the same location as the majority of the Resistance -- whatever bleak corner of the galaxy they are hiding in now.”

“We should then have special divisions of the First Order to make the search for the Jedi Master their highest priority.”

“It is already being done, Master,” Ren said. “Moreover -- it takes more than mere stormtroopers to hunt down a Jedi. My Knights have their spies and shadows out, placed on First Order ruled worlds from the Outer Rim to the Core. They will not rest -- none of them will cease the pursuit until he is seized.”

_Until he is no more._

And he should be the last person to underestimate Luke Skywalker, who had, after all, been his Master once. Not for once did he fool himself to believe that because Skywalker was simply one person, and they were an order created and emerged from darkness -- that if it came to a battle of such powers; fates crashing and the lines of light and dark blurring together, it wouldn’t be all devastating regardless of who emerged as victor.

Kylo Ren stood unmoving as a statue sculpted from dark stone, silently awaiting his Master’s reply. Though when it at last came, it was nothing like he’d expected.

“A strange restlessness…” the Leader said, his voice slower and calmer, and in some ways more intimate. “Kylo Ren, I sense that your emotions have long been rising within you, stirring… Blinding, your thoughts must feel. Blazing in their fierceness. Yet your mind is shattered, insecure. Use your feelings when they give you strength, but never let them get in the way of doing what is your duty. Never let them stop you from following the path that it laid before us; the path set by fate that we must tread. Remember, Kylo Ren, that nothing is more important than our cause.”

No more words came, and Ren did not know what to answer.

The figure faded in front of him and disappeared, as a fire being snuffed out by the cold vacuum of space. It became as if the shadow of the person had never existed, as if it had all simply been something of his imagination. Soon, the echo of the voice was the only thing left in the hall.

And Kylo Ren was left with his thoughts.

It was not the only time that day that he had felt utterly at a loss for words. And, really, for sense.

At that same time, he realized it wasn’t just the hologram of his Master that had temporarily disappeared -- but the presence of it, too. Where his mind had just before been saturated with voices, emotions, presences, now was simply silence.

Such a rare thing.

Now utterly alone, he once more fell to his knees.

Yet the strange thing -- as he sat as a lonely figure in a cold stone hall, with bare walls and ceilings so high they were left in shadow, he felt it was all but an illusion, and he’d be damned if he first started to fully believe in it. The absence of strangers’ voices and noise inside his head was only for the nauseating turmoil that was his own thoughts to take over.

It would have been so easy, so _light_ to believe that he could simply close his eyes, and everything would disappear. Silence. Emptiness -- a soothing darkness. But the darkness was not soothing, not for him -- it had never been; for the darkness was filled with all the voices, whispers, that were invisible to his eyes.

And so this was no calm or soothing solitude either. It was bitter.

There was a strange knot in his chest. Something that felt as though it was trying to claw its way up his throat -- and there was so much regret; by the stars, he didn’t know _what_ it was, and he couldn’t find a better description for it. It was suffocating.

It was as though the final words of the Leader were still reverberating through the throne room, echoing as a faint whisper between the walls of dark stone. He didn’t know whether this meeting was to be considered successful. Again, he had been accepted in his plan, his proposal, but he had a distinctive feeling it was just as much meant as a trial for him to pass. The Leader had made it clear he did not particularly care for the girl, as long as she posed no threat towards them whatsoever. Snoke would indeed show interest for the way her abilities were materializing; her powers becoming visible and comprehensible, but the main purpose of his Master’s acceptance would be to observe him. To see what he, Kylo Ren, would make of the challenge. To perhaps find out whether his Master of the Knights was still as unwavering, as determinedly set on the cause and the path that was his destiny.

It would take a great while longer for him to fully make up for his failures. With the Supreme Leader, there was no such thing as easy forgiveness.

He imagined how it would be to think of _her_ the way his Master did; as something that might just as well be useful as dispensable. A mere project -- an object to be trained and observed for interest. He did not know what or how he was supposed to think of her, or how he could even try to comprehend the mystery of her, which had appeared so much more deep and tangled than he could ever have foreseen.

But those thoughts filled his veins with a strange ice, and he sensed then that something was askew -- something was changing. And that clawing feeling in his chest was back, as if something inside him was indeed trying to tear him apart.

_Rey_ , he suddenly thought.

Her name. That _sound_ of her name. Enemy, threat, scavenger, girl. It was as if her very being had left its mark on him, a stain. He didn’t know if it was the extraordinary powers simmering in her, or if it was something else. If it was simply the special things about her person, the ferocity of her spirit, that had had him _noticing_ her from that very first moment.

Already now, he found himself wondering if any of this would be worth the cost.

He had been in charge of the attack against the Resistance base; an attack for something as simple as the purpose of acquiring Rey. And despite their apparent superiority at the battle, he doubted they would have won a victory against the rebels that day. They might have been taken by surprise, but he knew by experience that people who fight for freedom are not easily conquered.

_They were already escaping_ , he had told himself. _Trying to track them now would be useless hard work_. Perhaps the truth was a different one, but it was a possibility he didn’t want to ponder.

Such strange weakness. Such indiscipline, unforeseen.

It shook him, this sudden change. Yet he knew it was a change that had not simply been caused by her.

It was a divergence from his course.

He had had to kill Han Solo. It was the last step, the only thing he needed to do to turn away from his past completely. It was inevitable. Yet the devastation, the _pain_ of the act, had come unexpected. As if something within him had truly been torn away, ripped apart.

Perhaps it had been his old self that was ripped away so suddenly. The final remnants of his past, who he’d been -- gone, at last.

_Goodbye_ , he could think in his more victorious moments. _Goodbye._

He had killed so many.

So much of it so thoroughly conducted by his Master’s will.

The Supreme Leader wanted an empire, and they would build it. Together. Ren wanted vengeance, fulfilment, and his Master would help him achieve it.

A will, and one that held him like chains of iron. What his Master wanted, he wanted too. What Snoke demanded was his bidding.

And now the First Order was growing more powerful than ever; gloriously rising from its past defeat. The Jedi were nearly extinct.

He was so unbearably close to the very matter.

And yet he felt detached, like a stranger to how he’d grown to look on himself. He could no longer see the end of the path; it was veiled in shadows and mists. Like a star fallen away from the system of its constellation -- a lost star in the dark.

Kylo Ren lifted his head and noticed a sharp pain in his knees. He was still sitting as when the Supreme Leader had left him, kneeling down on the floor of stone. He stood up slowly, wondering how much time had passed while he was in the hall.

If only the confusion could all be brought back to that girl. The girl he’d gone to such means to bring here. He supposed he could learn to hate her, make her just one more face, one more voice to the roar of insignificant presences surrounding him.

Oh, how he wanted to hate her.

He didn’t _want_ an individual who had overpowered him in a way that was as new as it was unexpected. He didn’t want someone who had the power to shock him to his core -- by looking into his mind, by naming his fears. By simply existing.

So why had he brought her here? Perhaps for a need to understand. Perhaps for some frail, pathetic vision.

As he walked out of the hall and away, his mind was occupied by the sound of her voice.

_You are a monster_ , she had once told him.

_Yes_ , he thought, the sound of his steps echoing in the silent corridors. _I am the monster; the monster is within me._

And if the monster was what it would take to accomplish the will of his fate, so be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we got to the POV of Kylo -- my beautiful, tragic creature. My sad, sad boy who is in constant pain and denial.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Any feedback would be much appreciated. :)


	8. Their Lullaby, Our Lament

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so -- this is the longest chapter yet, and also a chapter that is crucial and changing in a lot of ways for our dear characters. I hope you'll enjoy it. <3

Once having mustered the energy and will that was needed in order to rise properly from her ‘bed’, Rey had begun a thorough search of her little chamber. It couldn’t quite pass as a room, and didn’t really appear as a cell either -- though that was obviously what it was, after all; a fact which the two stormtrooper guards outside her door made perfectly clear. Even though, as opposed to what she would have associated with a cell meant to contain possibly dangerous prisoners, this one seemed not so bad at all. At least she had some room to walk around in if she pleased, and even the bed wasn’t the worst at a second thought. Not for Rey, anyway, who had long since grown accustomed to the very poorest and crudest.

As such, she simply thought of it as a chamber.

Some time would pass where she was mercifully left alone; and so she was given time to rest and gaze at those walls all she liked. And think, and speculate, and wonder.

Searching her chamber proved to be a quick challenge. It consisted merely of four square walls that were all as blank and dark as the floor and ceiling; the only slightly decorative objects the vague lights on both sides of the sealed door. They emitted only a dim glow, which ensured the chamber was kept in a constant half-darkness. The bed stuck out from the wall opposite the door to the outside corridor, beyond which she supposed her guards were positioned. The other walls were kept blank except for another, smaller door left to the bed, which appeared to lead to a simple bathroom.

The bathroom, too, was truly small, but nevertheless. It was a _bathroom_ ; with a polished stone floor, a sink, and a shower. Rey had so rarely in her life had the opportunity to take a true, warm shower -- and not just cleaning herself with harsh soap and lukewarm water that she’d always had to use sparingly.

Not unsurprisingly, taking a shower was the first real thing she did.

Pulling off her thin tunic and trousers, she took a moment to look at her slight figure in the mirror above the sink, shortly inspecting the white bandage that covered her side, just beneath her breasts. Her wound must have been treated with bacta, since it didn’t hurt her particularly as she simply stood like that. Though she supposed it’d still be a different matter if she started walking too much around.

The bath was quick, as taking care and making sure the bandage didn’t absorb water proved a not so easy task. But even though; as Rey momentarily leaned against the dark tiled wall with her eyelids shut, letting the warm water run over her body, she briefly allowed herself to _forget_.

When she had put her clothes back on and walked out, dark hair for the moment hanging loose and dripping water down her back, she was back to sitting on her bed. Gazing up at the ceilings. Wondering a bit, whilst deliberately trying not to think and speculate that much at all. Too much.

It was not an easy task.

Rey had yet to see how the planet and the sky looked -- seen from space as well as from a standing position on the ground. There were no windows in her chamber, and she wouldn’t have been able to tell if she was several stories above the ground, or somewhere hidden deep below the surface. She realized she hadn’t seen outside light since the moment she was hauled aboard that shuttle by stormtroopers.

Inside her small chamber, it was always dim; the faint lighting never-changing, and she found that the fact was strange to her -- it confused her senses.

And so, now, she simply longed to feel the stars.

Rey had always been used to the rhythms of day and night on Jakku. She would fit it in her days to when the sun rose and fell on the bleak sky, and she would know when it was time for the moons to rise. Then it was time to finish the work of the day, and bring the outcome with her home.

It had been so much different when she left the planet, for she had quickly learned that she could not use the logics of Jakku days on other planets and moons. In outer space, there was no feeling of time and day rhythm. Out there in the infinity of space, it was only star speckled darkness. And when travelling from planet to planet, system to system, you couldn’t count on such things as day and night. One simply had to fit in as well and quickly as one could.

Ever since she had left, she would sometimes find herself thinking about her life on the remote desert world. The planet that had been all her world; in that earlier life of hers that now seemed so impossibly far away. As if all that had happened since, goods things and bad, served as a barrier; a veil to separate the two lives from one another.

Even if it wasn’t a long time ago at all.

Now, despite everything, she couldn’t help but feeling a loss of that life.

Even though the life on the desert planet had been monotone, lonely, and sometimes unbearably harsh. Yet, on Jakku she had always known what to do if she wanted to survive; had always known the simple, calming rhythm of day and night.

Always had she fought for life, for survival.

She wasn’t sure how to survive this. She did not know if she could endure.

Surely, her life had now become so infinitely more complicated, and in ways that she was only just beginning to understand. This new life that she had been thrown into. And Rey supposed that it was all ways of bringing her closer -- closer to the very core that was the truth. The truth of what, she did not know; but perhaps the truth of her very identity. Something and someone in her past, who had always been lost to her memories.

But what if it was all to no use now? What if she had failed with no chances of ever doing the right thing again? She had been captured because she wasn’t yet strong enough. Not yet powerful enough for whatever destiny she had been meant, for whatever purpose she held those abilities with the Force.

Now, she realized numbly, her options were death, or surrender her very self, in the likely case that a chance of escape would never occur. She then also knew that if death was to prove the only way out, she would greet it. Perhaps that had been the purpose all along, after all. To extinguish the threatening spark of her power -- before it could evolve into a roaring fire.

Before it could be turned into a swallowing darkness.

__________________________________________________________

Rey quickly grew tired of staring into the blank walls of her chamber, so she would lie down, her still damp hair spilling over the thin blanket. Staring up at the low ceilings appeared equally as frustratingly dull, but at least lying down soothed her still sore muscles, as the warm water had done just before.

And she wondered what would be done to her now.

Kylo Ren had left the lightsaber with her. That alone served to feed her suspicion -- and most of all, spark her reluctant curiosity.

Had he spoken the truth to her about the reason -- that it was to show her his trust? With the lightsaber, she could probably get rid of the two guards outside the door, but it would be for no use. The First Order fortress could be massive, especially if this was really their main quarters, and just finding the way out without guidance would seem an impossible task. Moreover, it was presumably crowded with stormtroopers and officers everywhere. A number of enemies that would be impossible for her to take on alone.

She had the lightsaber and the Force on her side, but even that wouldn’t be enough to fight so many.

_____________________________________________________________

Some time had passed when Rey heard the distinctive sound of the automatic door swooshing open. She tried desperately to make her eyes accustomed to the sudden sharp light spilling in from the corridor, so she would be able to eye the intruders.

One of the stormtroopers entered -- she didn’t know which one -- and the armoured soldier gestured for her to get up, before he seized her by the arm and led her out of the dimly lit chamber.

Kylo Ren was waiting in the corridor on the other side, eyeing her in something that was almost curiosity -- a glimpse of it, as a contrast to his usual façade of indifference.

She wasn’t sure why she felt an equal spark of something like surprise, when realizing that he still did not wear his black mask.

Her eyes fell on the night-black hair that fell in messy waves around his face.

His dark gaze on her was unwavering, his voice low and calm when he spoke.

He gestured first to the two stormtroopers, and said, “Leave us.”

The guard who held a tight grip on Rey’s arm quickly let go, and the two of them walked away. And Rey was left alone with Ren in the passage.

“What do you want from me?” she said as soon as the stormtroopers were gone.

He answered indirectly as his eyes continued to study her further. “Why don’t you follow me along?”

______________________________________________________________

Together they walked through what felt like endless corridors, halls and rooms. They walked on staircases, narrow and wide that let them down several stories -- or at least that was the impression she got.

Rey soon became convinced that they must be walking around in circles, because every floor, every little passageway seemed by first glance the same -- impossible to recognize from the other. If so, perhaps it was done as an attempt to confuse her senses.

Yet she wasn’t sure that it was the case after all, since every room and corridor was filled with different beings and droids. But whether confusing her was his intention or not, it worked well enough that way.

She had been right in her thoughts; the fortress was massive.

And yet under construction, she realized. The overall construction of the fortress she thought must have begun fairly recently, even if the effect was majestic enough as it was. Even still, they frequently came by areas with half-finished corridors, or control rooms and data pits without their panels and computers. Everything was new and gleaming and dark; even the plating on the various astromechs that wheeled about throughout the place.

Rey also realized, as he led her through the vast construction, that this fortress placed on the surface of a planet probably came nothing near just a small part of the unfathomable size of the Starkiller Base -- which had been carved out from an entire planet itself. This was a surface base, not a superweapon with the power to annihilate a star system. Yet for Rey this felt entirely different -- for at the time when she had tried to make her way out from the web of corridors in the Starkiller; adrenaline, determination and a not so little amount of panic had taken her mind off other things. Off the various impressions and feelings she might have felt otherwise; such as intimidation from the sheer _size_ of the base.

Sometimes she was busy taking it all in, so much that she nearly forgot the circumstances under which she was even here. Truly, as they walked ahead she didn’t particularly feel like a prisoner in shackles. But never for a single moment did her attention waver completely from the dark cloaked figure at her side, who set her some part of her mind strangely, constantly alert.

Even if he walked almost calmly, casually, sometimes gently placing a gloved hand on her shoulder to lead her down the passage or corridor; almost as if they were two acquaintances strolling about the streets of their hometown. Even if he didn’t give the faintest impression that the closest they had ever been to each other had been when fighting a deadly battle. That they both still bore marks from those encounters.

 _Twice_ , she thought. Twice had they now met in a duel. And she shuddered now as she thought of it -- not the latest encounter in the abandoned rooms of the Resistance base, but the first, in the forests of Starkiller Base. And it was almost as if she could sense it again.

Feel the cold kisses of snowflakes against her heated skin, see the flashes and sparks of red and blue colliding… feel the bolts of something that was both light and darkness sourcing through her, electrifying her. And something else, too… there had been something else, another feeling, but it was something that lay beyond what she could describe with words.

Maybe Rey would never find out what it was. What had been.

They came by various beings, organic as well as mechanical; from protocol droids to stormtroopers in heavy white armor and anonymous helmets, and officers with dark uniforms and gleaming boots manning the different stations in the data pits, looks of professional determination on their faces.

Most of the officers remained also well composed enough to keep those facades of cool professionalism. But Rey made a great effort of looking at the lot, noticing even the slightest changes.

She doubted many of them cared the faintest about her, no matter how out of place she must seem. But what she observed was the ways in which they regarded the man at her side. Many of what she assumed were the lesser experienced officers gazed insistently downward as Kylo Ren came past them. Some of the youngest exchanged whispered words, casting glances at them both. Some even backed away, just ever so slightly, in what she could only assume was… _fear_.

He wasn’t on a battlefield, and he wasn’t wearing the black mask that was so signature for him. Even so, Rey thought she knew what those officers sensed, even if they weren’t aware of it themselves.

The darkness, the restless energy; the _Force_ that seemed to pulse off his very being, his presence, in waves.

Or maybe she was the only one who felt it so strongly.

Their expressions signified the inferiority that would be expected towards a commander and superior; but that was not it. They showed the discrete fear of prey, hiding from another being possessing a far greater power. Something strange, fierce, that they would never get to understand.

She wondered if she would ever get to understand.

Rey saw glimpses of all that, and yet she doubted he noticed any of the officers at all. His gaze kept straight ahead, she briefly wondered if he was even noticing anything of the present at all, or if his mind was drifting somewhere far away.

And she didn’t know why she cared at all.

Yet -- he seemed to be aware of _her_ , for she thought she could almost sense his tension; a tension and an awareness that appeared so much like her own. Was it something on his mind? Or was it the fact of walking so closely side by side… and that dark energy that seemed to pulse off him… Could he feel the same sort of energy coming from her? And did it feel equally powerful?

After a while, he was also talking to her.

It could be taken as simply loose talk. He told her about the fortress and the planet, which she had never heard of before. She doubted anyone had, before the First Order decided to move their head-quarters here. He told her about the ships; starfighters and troop transports, as well as massive battle cruisers like the _Finalizer_. He told her about stormtroopers and their training, and she attempted to keep images of Finn from flooding to her mind.

He didn’t say anything about the Resistance, or his former Master. He didn’t say anything, either, of his other Master, or what fate they might have chosen for her.

They crossed a slender bridge that ran over what appeared to be one of the fortress’s smaller hangars. In the hangar stood TIE fighters in long rows, standing side by side with several dark command shuttles. And at the end of the hangar --

Freedom. Rey cast a long gaze toward what must be the opening out into the sky and atmosphere of the planet. From what she could see, it looked to be protected by a force-field, and beyond the field were only blurry shapes. Perhaps obscured by a mist, she thought with a frown, or perhaps there was some strange, raging weather going on outside that made the force-fields necessary. Maybe the atmosphere wasn’t breathable, wasn’t naturally fitted for the living. The only thing she could make out for sure was an odd, bluish-purple glow. She had noticed the same eerily coloured light whenever they quickly passed small viewports in the corridors, and she now thought perhaps it was a general phenomenon; a tinted glow that veiled the entire planet.

They reached the opposite end of the bridge, which was also the end of the hangar, and the natural light from the exit was gone.

The whole image of the fortress was intimidating to Rey. Stocked with fire-power and faceless soldiers, and stiff-looking officers who hardly uttered any words that were not orders, given or received. It was a dark place, she thought, oozing with a strangely oppressive atmosphere. And, deeply beneath that, fear.

Maybe the whole point was to make her feel the fear of this place; to show her the controlling power and might that the First Order possessed. To make her realize what a hopeless task it would be for the Resistance -- for _anyone_ \-- to fight them.

And Rey couldn’t stop herself from feeling the hopelessness and despair flowing through her body like venom. What use would it be to try to fight against a united power like this -- a government that already operated with the forces of an empire? Would there be anyone left in the galaxy at all -- who would be strong enough? Would even Jedi stand a chance?

Eyeing the forces hidden inside the looming fortress made Rey feel as though they had already lost.

But she had other things on mind, she strongly reminded herself. Things far more important, and far more present.

For how would their chances look, if she, even unwillingly, handed herself over as a simple tool for Snoke to use?

______________________________________________________________

Rey had given up trying to figure out the local time of the day. Maybe it didn’t matter much after all. She had even lost track of how much time had passed since he’d led her out from that chamber.

They were walking down a long, abandoned corridor. He was silent now, and it had been a long while since she’d uttered a word. The area was quiet except for the sound of their feet on the polished floor, and the faint whisper of his dark cloak.

What she could see of his face -- the parts that weren’t hidden from her gaze by stray locks of black hair -- was inscrutable, as was the now cold gaze that he held straight ahead. His features could have been carved in marble. She looked at him, silently, and wondered.

Wondered about the meaning of everything.

She realized that no part of her stay as a captive had, until then, been that of a prisoner. She wasn’t quite what could be called an ordinary prisoner, but even so -- apart from the way she had been taken here, she had met no harm, hardly even harsh words. Her wounds had been taken proper care of. She had been given a chamber with a bed and bath. And now she was walking freely around -- with no shackles, and no squad of stormtroopers constantly pointing their blasters at her.

Well; almost freely, for she wasn’t exactly alone.

By the stars, Kylo Ren had been almost _friendly_ to her lately. Or at least he hadn’t treated her unpleasantly. His attitude towards her -- his _voice_ \-- was pleasant, she realized with a strange pang. Somehow, that felt even more frightening to Rey than a fight of clashing lightsabers. And when she thought about the way he had behaved, the things he had said when she had just returned to consciousness… When he had watched her in her sleep, waiting for her to come to…

She didn’t know what to make of any of it.

Until now, she had encountered no proof of lies and deception, of any hidden intentions… But that could not be true -- Rey knew that for sure. It was the First Order and he was a warrior. A servant of the dark side, she knew.

And an enemy.

For some reason or another, suddenly the very pressure of the ceilings above and the close walls surrounding her made her feel suffocated.

They came to a halt in front of a black door at the end of the corridor. As though on instinct, Rey tried if she could reach out, maybe sense if there was anything strange about this abandoned spot in particular. The door was small; just as anonymous as the corridor leading to it, and nothing about it gave away any sign of its existing for some special purpose. Nevertheless, it was to this place that they had been drawn, whether by accident or design.

He stood for a moment still without entering through, gaze lowered and one hand clenched. And she wondered if he had truly decided this very place as their destination all along, and everything else had simply been for show, or if he was actually as surprised by it as she was.  
That maybe he still hadn’t fully made up his own mind about what was to happen with her.

Then he straightened, made a nonchalant gesture with his hand that caused the automatic door to slide open, and strode inside without a back glance. She could do nothing but follow -- her body tense and prepared to encounter any unexpected obstacles, her mind braced for whatever could be found inside.

Once inside the room, however, she halted in faint surprise. By a first glance she saw nothing special about it at all -- it was dimly lit, like so many of the halls and chambers in the fortress, and along the opposite wall were stands holding all sorts of objects; weapons? Something that looked like different types of swords and knives, along with other objects that were longer and thinner. Quarter staves, like the one she used to have on Jakku, Rey realized with surprise.

This could be anything from a training room to a weapon’s repository, or perhaps a bit of both. Whatever the room was, it wasn’t an interrogation chamber or a cell, like she some part of her mind might have expected.

He was standing but a few meters away, facing the opposite of her direction. Rey suddenly felt small, so infinitely vulnerable against the person and the dark power that stood currently turned away from her. Whatever his purpose was, whatever his or his Master’s plans was with her, would she stand any chance against it at all?

“You have an impressive control of your powers for someone so inexperienced and untrained,” he said softly. As his figure turned slowly around, she was met by his gaze. Now there was nothing sharp or hostile in his deep eyes; the coldness had ebbed away and left only something thoughtful in its place. Contemplating. “You have begun to discover the depths of your Force-abilities…” he said. “But you are no Jedi yet.”

She stood silent, her mind and body prepared of whatever was to come, but he didn’t approach her. Instead he turned slightly away, his eyes glazed as though travelling to someplace far away. He raised his hands in an upward-turned gesture. And the room became alive.

Nothing visibly moved or changed, but it became nevertheless _vibrant_ , illuminated; as though the very air around them had awakened. No, not the air, she thought. The energy and spirit from every living being inside this fortress, or maybe from the entire planet. The Force.

It was not the light, nor the dark; it was simply there. And Rey knew it was not something he had summoned or created, for it was always present -- he had simply opened up for the stream of it. For her senses, and his own.

“You sense it,” he said quietly, and she looked him in the eyes once again. “I know you do -- sense it, like it’s a part of your very existence. Truly, it is part of everything, but few people exist _in_ it, ever alongside it -- as we do.”

He lowered his hands, and took a step closer. “So much potential… So much power to be explored. You have been told of the Jedi ways, but there is so much more to the Force than what the Jedi realize.”

He studied her silently for a moment, and she finally mustered the courage to speak.

“Why have you taken me here?” she said, her voice quiet but strong.

A pause lingered in the air, and for a moment she thought he simply would not answer. Then he said, “I wish to know more about your strength. I want to learn how far your control goes when it comes to a protection of the mind. If you are able to resist any force.”

For a full second she stood, her whole attention on him, not knowing what to say. Then, steel coating his words, he demanded, “Defend yourself.”

She had no chance at all of being prepared.

The attack came before she could blink, before she could _think_. An attack, not on her person but inside her head, in her mind.  
Rey had done this before. He had attempted to penetrate her mind before, and she had held him out, turned the attack in her own favor. Her self-control was stronger now. She should be capable of keeping him out.

But, as she quickly came to realize, his treatment of her on Starkiller Base had been gentle. Ignorant, even if she herself had been equally ignorant.

He wasn’t being gentle with her now.

The dark force of his mind struck inside her head, slashing and cutting with the sharpness of a sword. It overwhelmed her; with its shadows, with its roaring turmoil and fury, in a way so she thought she might lose herself. And -- briefly, in the very back of her consciousness -- she wondered if this was how it usually felt being Kylo Ren.

Her weak, clumsy barriers of protection collapsed, blew away to the winds, and images and sounds began to flicker through her inner vision in glimpses.

Images of her past. Of her loneliness and poverty and misery -- memories and images that she felt ashamed of, or that she was made to feel ashamed of as he soared through them and scattered them to the winds. Things she didn’t _want_ him to see -- things she didn’t want _anyone_ to see; at least not yet, at this point. They were things that she hadn’t yet come to fully accept and live with herself.

And it was that knowledge, that sudden anger of having such a vulnerable side of her shown and exposed against his intrusion, that summoned her full strength. With a sudden iron-clad determination, she shoved back; a storm of her will that held more of that hidden power within her than she ever showed. She briefly wondered if he could sense it; if he felt it from her, the way she could sense his presence.

They remained for a long moment like that, two minds and two powers meeting and clashing in strength. No more images flickered through Rey’s mind -- none that belonged to her, and none of his, either. For that his mental barriers were too strong.

Then, suddenly, it all ceased at once. The pressure on her frantic attempts to remain in control lightened, and the strange, darker presence drew back from her mind.

She looked up. He was watching her, calmly in that way that was not calm at all; like shadows gathering, storms brewing and frost coming in the night; all deep beneath the surface of those eyes. He stood quietly, unmoving, showing no signs at all of the duel just fought. Well, she supposed he’d had the advance most of the time.

It was then that she realized how her own breath was catching, sweat sparkling on her brow as if she’d just run several miles. And beneath that, something else simmered. As a restless energy humming in her blood and bones, waiting to strike.

 _Anger_ , she realized suddenly. The anger, that had helped her grow her defenses. That had helped her fight back.

With a feeling like having the solid ground suddenly removed from under her feet, she looked into the other pair of dark eyes in front of her, as Kylo Ren said in a low voice, “You resisted well. But you were too late to gather your defense. We shall try once more.”

______________________________________________________________

She didn’t know for how much longer they remained, attacking each other’s minds and forcing the other back with an almost brutish determination. They dueled with their minds until she was panting and shaking from exhaustion; he under better self-control, but constantly appearing to be boiling over from some emotion -- anger? Frustration?

She didn’t care. Whatever his purpose was with this ‘training’, whatever he wanted to gather from the observation of her skill and control of her powers… Her only job was to stay strong, and not cower -- not break, no matter how far he wanted to try to bend her will. She would not give in to that.

She made to swear to herself that no matter how far he went in the process -- no matter how far she had to retreat, how much he saw, she would not let herself lose her bonds; her precious control. She could not, _would_ not descend to extracting strength from pure emotions. It was simply too dangerous; too much out of her own hands and influence. But she was so unexperienced…

And all the emotions -- the anger and frustration and hopelessness -- they were growing and rising so widely, uncontrollably in her. For her helpless situation. For her failing strength.

He followed her the long way back to her chamber in silence. Presumably he didn’t want to risk getting her out of his sight at any moment. Rey was rather sure she wouldn’t have been able to find the right way, either.

They had reached the bridge that went across the hangar, and were now crossing it. She would have preferred to do the crossing as quickly as possible, if only to keep herself from gazing helplessly out towards the end; to the exit shielded by the force-field, to the blurry shapes and purple glow that was all she would ever see of the planet surface. But as they reached the middle of the bridge, over-looking the whole gathering of vessels in the hangar, they were slowing down.

Ren had simply stopped, to stand and silently watch… Whatever was going on down there. Rey walked over to the railing and looked down.

White-armoured stormtroopers were standing in group down on the hangar floor, surrounding and pointing their blasters at a group of poor-looking people. People that looked like they truly didn’t belong in this place. They were people of all ages and species, the only thing they all had in common the worn, colourless rags they wore for clothes. As if no one had thought to offer them anything better. They walked silently, slowly, their necks bowed and eyes lowered to the ground, being herded by the stormtroopers toward a number of troop transports in the middle of the hangar. Rey saw humans, Twi’leks and Koorivar walking among each other. There were males and females and even children, some of the youngest sitting on the shoulders of their fathers, or holding their mothers’ hands.

All of it was overlooked by a black-clad male officer, standing on the bridge just meters away from Rey.

An older, clearly limping Koorivar male fell briefly behind the group, and one stormtrooper held a blaster against the Koorivar’s back and forced him to stumble forward. Another one -- a Twi’lek child who couldn’t be much more than eight -- began to weep and tug at his mother’s worn dress. As the mother bent down to hush her son, a trooper barked something at her and shoved her brutally forward by the arm.

The young Twi’lek boy wept louder than ever.

Eyes wide and a strange, hollow feeling growing in her chest, Rey asked in barely more than a whisper, “Who are they?”

She was answered with silence at first; Ren looked to be staring emptily at the scenery below, a gloved hand rested on the railing. The officer appeared as though he had not heard her.

“Answer her,” Ren then said quietly, and the officer glanced at them and started, as though he had only realized who stood there just now.

“They are slaves… Miss,” the officer spoke in a flat voice, obviously in doubt of how to address her. He probably had no idea who she was, or perhaps he’d simply been trained not to show any kind of affection or suspicion. “These ones are mainly originated from Ryloth and Cerea. The Koorivar down there were an immigrated species of their world. All of those people refused to surrender themselves to First Order enforcers, but it was decided that they would be shown our mercy rather than be instantly eliminated according to usual procedure.”

 _Slaves_. She swallowed. Those people down there were ones -- warriors as well as families -- who had fought against a greater suppressing power. People who had dared to resist, and suffered deeply from it. No, they weren’t dead, but… if the conditions of slaves were like the things she could imagine, many of them would likely be gone soon. Slaves. They were now seen as lesser than ordinary intelligent beings; something as expendable as droids.

Children -- there were _children_ down there.

“Where to?” asked Ren, still in that cool, quiet voice. Stripped of emotion.

“A few are being shipped to Mustafar, Sir, while most will be going to Mandalore along with other types of shipments, where there is a great need of men as well as materiel. It is probable that the local governors there will decide to send some of them farther, to destinations in other systems.”

Ryloth, Cerea… Mustafar, Mandalore -- all the names, places, seemed to fly through her mind without leaving any sort of sense, emotion or meaning behind. She could only stand silently -- numbly -- and watch.

The group of lost people had reached the line of transports that would take them away -- far away to places they had likely never seen, and would likely never return from.

The little group of Koorivar, along with most of the Twi’leks, were crudely herded and shoved up the ramp of the large transport to the farthest left. When they came to the Twi’lek mother who held a tight grip in her still sniffling son, a stormtrooper brutally forced mother and child apart. The little boy would be taken by another transport, which already held a line of young slaves all standing on the ramp in a state of terrified silence.

The Twi’lek boy cried out in grief and fear as his mother was shoved into the first transport along with the other adult Twi’leks and Koorivar, and the ramp closed up behind her to part them forever.

The hollow feeling in Rey’s chest grew.

Now only the humans in the group remained. They were quickly parted; the older and weaker getting in a transport for themselves. The younger -- men as well as women -- were herded into the vessel on the far right.

A tall, fair-haired woman who looked to be in her early thirties -- though it was difficult to tell for the dirt and dust sticking to her face -- walked with a straighter stance than all the others. A seeming pride and inexplicable calm that marked her out from the rest.

When they reached the ramp that would take them into the ship, the proud woman freed herself from the pressure of the group. She whirled herself around so she stood facing the bridge above, and stared up with a fire in her eyes that was visible even when standing on the bridge.

As Rey met the woman’s fiery gaze, transfixed, the latter started singing.

 

_You taught me the courage of stars_  
_Before you left_  
_You showed me how light and balance will remain_  
_Forever and constant, and always the same_  
_As the light that never dies_

 

She didn’t sing with a rhythm, but more as though she was shoving the song out from somewhere deeply within, the melody echoing and blending eerily into itself. The words were alluring, and she sang them with a strangeness, an otherworldly lightness that made Rey want to halt. To stand still and simply listen to that voice forever.

Three stormtrooper guards held the woman’s arms and tried to drag her away. One of them clamped a large hand over her mouth, but she tore it away, holding Rey’s gaze.

 

_You taught me the calm beauty in moonlight_  
_Before you went away_  
_You made me see a beauty that never fades_  
_Always returning, in silence it remains_  
_As the rhythm of day and night_

 

Rey felt herself become overwhelmed, as though taken by a wave and flooded away.

And somewhere, deeply within her, a glass wall cracked. As though somewhere inside her mind was a door with an ancient lock that had never been opened, and now, at last, the lock had found a key. And the cracks in the barrier spread like a pattern of cobwebs across the glass, fragile and splintering and collapsing.

Five stormtroopers in full armour were now surrounding the woman. While the rest of the guards forcefully herded the human slaves into the transports, they held her so she was locked in place without being able to move a limb, and began to punch.

Blood began to trickle from to woman’s brow and nose, from where the blows hit. The vivid red trailed marks down the dirt covering her skin, mixing with the tears now flooding from her bright blue eyes.

Her voice didn’t falter as she began the third verse.

 

_You taught me the eternity of everything_  
_Before you ceased to be_  
_You showed me the life and soul of the Universe_  
_Constant and forever, never defeated_  
_As the light that never dies_  
_As day and night, waiting to rise_

 

_We are the lights that never fade_

 

A stormtrooper shoved the end of his blaster into the woman’s back, and her knees gave way beneath her at last. On her knees she was gasping for breath, her face bloodied and already bruised from the blows, her light hair sticky and caked with her own blood.

Rey felt emotions surge through her -- hopelessness and inexplicable grief, along with something else that she couldn’t figure out, no matter how vital she sensed it could be. Grief, for the young woman who probably wouldn’t be allowed to spread her message for much longer. Helplessness and regret, for the fact that she couldn’t do anything at all that would be of any help. For the woman with the fiery eyes and the song. For the Twi’lek boy and his mother. For any of the other slaves, who had long since fallen forever silent. Who had probably lost all hope long ago.

The woman had fallen silent too. Yet, as she looked up from her position on the hangar floor, betrayed by legs that could no longer bear her weight -- as she met Rey’s eyes one last time, that fire was still there. And, despite everything, the tear and blood streaked face lit up in a soothing smile.

When the stormtroopers dragged her to her feet, the smile remained. It continued to light up her probably once lovely features as the guards held her arms brutally in place behind her back, and another rested his blaster against her forehead. Calm, Rey thought. As the proud woman stood to be greeted by death, her face expressed only serenity. She had completed what she could do. She had expected this moment, maybe even looked forward to its arrival. And she was ready.

The sound of the shot was deafening as it exploded through a hangar silent as the grave. The woman’s lifeless body fell to the floor with a soft thud.

Bile burned Rey’s throat. But worse were the pressing tears stinging her eyes.

A sharp exhale, like a gasp, sounded beside her. She knew he was standing there; somehow knew that he was staring down at the scene just as numbly as she was. Her chest caved in, and she couldn’t bring herself to seek his eyes, even look at him. But she nevertheless moved her gaze to the railing, to where his gloved hands still rested.

They were clenched tightly, the knuckles standing out sharply through the black leather. As in an attempt to regain control.

They walked in silence the remainder of the way back. When they were once again in the narrow corridor outside her chamber, he turned around and walked away from her without a word.

She didn’t know if she had expected otherwise.

The image of the slave woman’s burning gaze was branded upon her eyelids when she fell down on the bed and closed them, surrendering herself to the swallowing darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The 'song' sung by the slave woman was written by me. I basically took the first line of the song 'Saturn' by Sleeping At Last (it's beautiful -- go listen to it if you haven't already), and then just wrote it from there. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter! Thank you so much for the comments and kudos -- it's means the world to me. :)


	9. Fracture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is considerably shorter. I simply thought it essential that we get Kylo's POV -- and thoughts -- on most recent events. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments! <3

As Kylo Ren stormed through a web of corridors that would have made most people lose their way, the thoughts were pounding in his head. _Pounding_ , as though a vast, bleeding heart was sending all those thoughts, all those unforeseen emotions surging through his mind. Whirling them around and together, until he could no longer tell all of them apart.

He could still hear the shot from the blaster. He could still see the blood. He could still sense _her_ fear and hopelessness. He could still feel that woman’s fire.

He had always been so sure that this -- this great matter, this continuous _all_ \-- was the right thing to do. The First Order was right -- it was the only way to build a powerful empire, and a strong galaxy united.

It was proven by history. The fall of the Empire had caused nothing but chaos and disorder galaxy-wide, along with a vague, laughable shadow of democracy that had led to nothing at all. Least of all control, and discipline, and progress.

He had felt certain in his decisions, of the path that lay at his feet. At least, he had been certain of the individuals who realized his path to tread. Or perhaps he had never truly been certain.

Perhaps that, too, had been but an illusion.

The First Order was feared by people across the galaxy. Feared for its suddenness, feared for its immense military power and might; feared for its stormtrooper legions and Star Destroyers -- relics, that had been awoken from another age and renewed, strengthened in their pure power of destruction. The political fundaments and fineries, the _cause_ , was the veil in which the sheer brutality was wrapped.

And an order as such demanded complete dominance. Complete control; obedience shown to those with the greater power. His Master had always believed in the control over any resistance to cooperate, any uprising that would lead them away from the path of the cause. A spark of protest and independence would be snuffed out before it could turn into a catching fire that would be shattering. Any rebellious minds would have to be eliminated before they could pose a threat.

Such as the Cerean slave woman from the hangar.

_Fear_ , he thought. All the other slaves in that hangar had reeked fear; dread and hopelessness. Fear was what would weaken his Master’s opponents. The exploitation of fear, by the enforcement of power, would be what destroyed their enemies.

When he showed up in the battlefields himself, he was feared. Concealed by a mask, wielding a crimson lightsaber, he supposed he, too, must appear a relic reawakened from another age. Or death incarnate.

He had thought himself raised so high above the rest; he had thought himself _granted_ the right to rule over the life and death of other beings.

And, as so many other fatal choices he’d made, he had long since chosen to be feared.

Never had the fear, that unmistakable tang of people losing all hope, tasted so bitterly.

Abruptly he turned on his heel and strode into a darkened chamber. He found it to be utterly abandoned. In this fortress so many places were yet void of life and movement, left in temporary darkness. Such a new thing, all of it. And far, far away from any natural light or life. So it seemed, anyway. Darkness was in this place’s soul, flourishing in the marrows of its bones. This was a place for shadows to roam free without fearing the merciless truth of the light.

A place that should have suited him well.

The light -- perhaps he would have been able to simply hide away from it forever. Unless he had _brought_ the light to this place.

Perhaps, he thought, some things existed that were truly inevitable.

He had brought her here, after all. Taken her.

He came to a halt in the center of the room, and witnessed the scene in his mind yet again. The more treacherous part of his mind, in which all the damning thoughts were hidden away. Maybe truths. At least until the barrier cracked.

He saw the fire-eyed woman on whom had been conducted an immediate execution. Most of all he recalled the sense of _her_ fear -- the expression of hopelessness, of grief in Rey’s eyes. Grief -- for a woman that she hadn’t known. And tears. None of them had known the woman’s name.

And he almost snarled in frustration of his own weakness.

They were _slaves_ , stars be damned. They weren’t supposed to have names, weren’t supposed to have any kind of identity; no purpose beyond serving the Order they had dared set up against. Those people were some of the fierce souls that could put the entire system in danger if they were not put an end to. And _this_ was the only way to properly break them.

He suddenly felt like he, his thoughts, went barreling into a mental wall. He cursed himself. This was how people like Hux would think, he thought dryly -- sycophants who hid every one of their actual intentions behind a façade of cool indifference and insufferable righteousness. Even if the life Force of those beings all glowed with equal power, _they_ would never realize it. Any of it.

He himself should know better. Even if the Supreme Leader had apparently chosen to ignore the fact, he thought. To instantly mark those sorry beings as useless and dispensable.

_Grandfather._ What would he have done?

Although few people realized it, Darth Vader had once been a slave himself. Would the Sith Lord have allowed this to happen? Would he have stood silently, doing nothing to prevent it?

As many times before, he found himself wishing he could speak to his grandfather, ask for advice, anything at all, in the moments when he found himself doubting the most…

He shoved the thought away. He would hardly get anything useful from speaking to the dead… Not as the circumstances were.

He had wanted to save those people from their slavery and certain death. He had wanted it, if only to make that hopelessness in her eyes disappear.

But they were thoughts with no sense to them… Stars, these were only one group of miserable beings; one single spark to be suffocated. And then what if he’d truly gone so far -- if he’d actually demanded those people were set free and returned to their miserable home worlds? There would be more. Thousands, millions, maybe even billions of more beings would be lost likewise before the end of this conflict -- or war, or whatever would be the right way to phrase the never-ending thing that it was. There had been billions of people in the Hosnian system.

But it _frustrated_ him nevertheless. It didn’t matter as much what he would have chosen to do -- it was too late now, anyway. It wasn’t like him to just simply stand there, watching without speaking, without interfering if there was something he wanted to happen differently.

The thought of it drove him out of his mind.

He clenched his hands at his sides, though it now seemed hardly enough to keep the power in control. The power could already now be felt, almost like an electric field in the room. Wanting to be released, wanting to be let out.

To see the way it affected _her_ …

Someone so truly strange and yet innocent. Someone who would be so devastated by the loss of any life that she would shed tears for a woman whose name she did not know.

With a roar of frustration, he flung out his hands and unleashed all that power contained within him, unleashed it in a way that shook the walls and the floor; surged out and out, wider and wider in dark waves and made the entire wretched fortress tremble to its core.

He closed his eyes, and let himself lose control and fall away; letting the blazing, swallowing madness drown those useless emotions; that frail speck of light and purity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! It means a lot to see that other people take interest in this story - so thank you for that. :)


	10. The Master of the Knights

“Defend yourself.”

And the strange, dark power came surging towards her once more.

She braced herself as well as she could. Hardly had she mustered any frail semblance of a shield, of protection, before the force of his mind reached her. Ruthlessly, relentlessly. Rey forged her resistance from all that of her own power she could assemble. And they clashed. 

As all the other times, she had to fight strongly to remain at least some part herself. Gather all her precious, shattering control in order to stay in her own consciousness. If only to paint for herself the image of a chance. Even if it would always be but an illusion.

She didn’t know what would happen if she gave in; if she lost herself completely. She didn’t want to know just how little stood between that strange, devouring darkness and the deepest, most personal depths of her mind. Perhaps her soul -- she wondered what would be the separator of the two, in the end.

The image before her vision flashed and changed as their minds continued to battle in silence. Shifting between the blurry sight of that other face, the other figure standing before her, and quick, unclear glimpses of other images -- sceneries that must come from her own mind, but eventually she didn’t see enough to properly recognize any of them. Then it shifted back, and for a moment she found herself staring directly into that other pair of eyes; the bronze of them molten, burning.

At some point, her vision went dark. And she saw only shadows. Eventually she thought she heard some sounds; distant and vague. To her, they sounded like screams.

An ache began pounding in her head as the force from the other mind intensified, and she had to strain herself to keep what was left of her shield up. She didn’t how the shield had come to be -- if it was pure instinct, a method of defending herself that had always existed deep down within her. Right now, it was the only thing that kept her from giving way.

But it was already collapsing… She felt it as though, perhaps, she was already losing herself.

Lightning blazed across her vision, along with a particularly sharp throb of pain. It was followed by a dull ache in her knees.

Precisely then, the strange force and presence withdrew, just as swiftly as it had come. Rey blinked as her normal sight returned, and found herself kneeling down on the cold floor. She had to force herself hard not to release a deep gasp of relief.

She had lost count of how many times she had gone through all this. She didn’t know how many times he would test her -- her force in resistance -- before he’d seen enough, observed enough. 

She wouldn’t satisfy him by attempting to ask. Never in a thousand years would she show such signs of weakness. Of breaking.

Faintly she heard the sound of footsteps -- hesitating, before taking a few steps nearer. She saw him as a shadowy figure at the edge of her vision before she felt his hand on her arm, as if he wanted to help her get to her feet. She only sensed the lightest feel of his touch before she shook it off in a furious movement.

Gentle -- his touch had been surprisingly gentle in that flicker of a second. As noticed by some deep, useless part of her mind that she rarely now saw any use for. That she could rarely even attempt to figure out.

Slowly, she forced herself to stand.

“What was it about the flower?”

Rey then had to force herself to look up at that person, that face; at the source of the low, soft voice.

The flower… He must have seen the flower in a glimpse, somehow picked it out among all the other vague glimpses of her memories. An image of her past that had slipped beyond her pitiful shield of protection. He must have wondered _why_ , but why he had thought so deeply of it that he cared to ask, she could not comprehend. 

A symbol of purity. Of hope. A rare speck of lasting beauty in a world that so often seemed ugly and unforgiving. A tiny flare of light and life in a dead place, just as she had in some ways been. “I found it in the place where my home was,” she said flatly. “I saved it for its pretty scent.”

She expected him to sneer or perhaps mock her -- for the pettiness of her past existence; for the hopes. For being a poor, miserable scavenger who had known nothing but the harsh desert, who had been happy to live in the ruins of an old AT-AT walker.

Instead he stood silent for a while. She didn’t meet his gaze, but felt it heavily, constantly upon her. Wondering. Then he said, “It was a spinebarrel, was it not?”

Rey wasn’t sure if it made a difference that he knew the type of the flower. “Yes.”

“Such a little, fragile flower,” he said softly. “A spinebarrel, growing in the sands of Jakku. As a thing of life. Beauty. Purity.”

She swallowed against the strange feeling that was clawing its way up her throat, and remained silent.

He said, “You do not remember your family.”

Oh, so that had been it. Of course -- the screams. Those had been her own -- pleas; a little girl’s unconsidered screams for her parents not to leave. Not to leave her. How exhausted her mind must be, she thought faintly. How tired and used up, for her to hardly recognize the memories and loss that were her own. 

“No,” Rey said plainly. “I don’t. I grew up and learned to survive on my own.”

She didn’t meet his eyes, and this time, it was his turn to fall silent.

Suddenly, as if after a moment of thought, he said, “We try again.” And his voice was nearly as seemingly calm and void of emotion as always. Nearly -- for Rey thought she could sense a slightly strained tone in that voice. As if he, too, had been exhausted inexplicably during their dueling of minds. 

Before she could stop herself, she asked, “Why -- _why_ are you doing this?” Their eyes met, and she forced herself not to waver. “What do you think you’ll achieve by forcing yourself into my mind? By making me keep you out?”

He held her gaze for a moment. “I want to know your strengths,” he said, slowly, at last. Then his eyes and his voice turned strangely gentler, softer. “I do not wish to violate your mind.”

Her words were coated in frost. “You never used to bother.”

“You have the powers.” His expression was suddenly closed once again. Another type of shield. Concealment and protection. “You have the powers to hold perhaps any threat out; to hold even me out. But you are undisciplined and imprecise. You must be unwavering in your defenses; you must be prepared to fight back at all times. _Shield your mind_.”

But she was not prepared when the darkness came rolling, not prepared to fight against the force of his mind. For she was exhausted and exasperated and weak, and she did not have the control to muster those powers from where they dwelled in her. Did not know whether they even truly existed, deep within that deepest of places.

She hardly flinched as the strange force came rushing, crashing against her mind as if it were a tidal wave, and her fragile, unpracticed shields collapsed at last under the sheer power of it. She no longer felt like caring if his mind would overwhelm her own. She didn’t care if he saw everything, every single moment of vulnerability, every dark, miserable bit of memory. She wouldn’t have been able to fight against it in the end -- no matter how hard she tried, how much she fought to remain in control of her own mind. How much she had tried to shut out the thoughts of whether her mind would be allowed to remain fully her own.

Maybe the time was right to stop deceiving herself to believe.

She didn’t bother to offer resistance as he tore down the walls of her mind as though they were made of glass; transparent and frail, her memories of despair and those tiny specks of beauty exposed. 

Images began rushing by, and Rey knew that he saw the same as she did. The same thoughts and memories. And it felt odd, so strangely intimate, with those images they now shared; witnessed together in silence. And in the silence, she almost stopped being aware of his strange, dark presence, lost in the unfolding memories herself --

… _They were flying, soaring closely above the sandy surface of a planet. It was Jakku, and it was the same desert, the same wasteland of dunes she always crossed -- exposed under a scorching sun, exhausted and dull after a day of desperate, hard work, but the cooling wind to her face was refreshing and awakening as nothing else, made her feel so truly, preciously alive…_

… _They were flying up, shooting towards the sky and into the deep, infinite darkness; claiming the heavens, then the open, silent space filled with stars. They were in the cockpit of the_ Millennium Falcon, _and she felt the presence of his change inexplicably with the eventual realization. And like Han Solo’s famous ship, she felt free, hopeful as never before, and it was as though her soul and the ship sang in unison with the sheer joy of leaving the desert planet that had held them chained and unfree for so long…_

… _They were running through the strange, rich forests of Takodana, and the adrenaline rushed through her body, the deep, wild instincts taking over and telling her to “Run, run, run.”_ She _was running. She was alone, but not for much longer… For he was there, too -- in the forest, on Takodana -- and this was the place where they would finally, truly meet; suddenly, unexpectedly, fatally and inevitably. Finally, Fate would whisper like a quiet wind through the lush treetops. Finally, it will come true…_

_**Put up. Your. Shields.** _

The order sounded inside her mind, his voice a low snarl. 

_Never lose your control_ , the voice hissed, the deep, well-known tone of it coming with a sliver of something else; something strange, different. A flicker of emotion. Somewhere within herself, she couldn’t help but feeling a touch of surprise.

_Never show yourself vulnerable._

And something changed in her, too. She thought, for the briefest moment, that something was moving -- shifting ever so slowly…

A wall -- a barrier that had stood, undefeated and unbroken forever -- groaned and gave way.

And a tiny, frail piece of glass fell out from the cracks. Clattering into the abyss. Splintering and dissolving into the finest dust.

… _An ocean. She was flying again, freely this time, like a bird on swift wings riding on the winds. An ocean stretched out beneath her, an ocean vast and ferocious, roaring and deep and dark, the bottom hidden far below a surface in turmoil. The blazing sun was dancing on that surface, casting glimmers of light shifting with every ripple of the water. And now, as though through the eyes of a falcon, she glimpsed land. A long, vast expanse of it rising from the ocean, the silhouettes of the landscapes yet dim in the mist. It would be easy to believe that it was a land that had just been raised from the very sea; pure and fresh -- a land that was the ending and the beginning. And she thought of that sense of cleanliness and purity, felt it even as she soared closer and saw the dim silhouettes turn into wild mountains contrasted by lush meadows, endless forests of needles and soft shadows -- then villages and towns, scattered naturally throughout the landscape. The freedom, the purity remained, living in the very soul of the land. And deep within her own soul, she felt the bond. This land surrounded by ocean, with its mountains and forests and meadows. With its towns and villages and people and life. And as she rose on the wind to gaze upon it all from above, she emitted a cry -- a bird’s cry, a sound filled with so much joy, and endless freedom. A sheer, wild beauty…_

Darkness.

Reality flashed across her vision in a glimpse; a brief sense of the darkened room with its unwelcoming shadows --

A sharp pain shot through her head, and she was once again devoured by waves upon waves of unending blackness…

The _world_ was devoured; by the darkness that swallowed everything and took everything with it, the darkness that had no clear source… It came from the person with the powerful presence before her… it came from the thousands and thousands of faceless shadows circling her in that darkness, taunting her, unleashing their eternal wrath on her; shadows that she could not make out, could not recognize even from their screams and pleas and cruel laughter… it came from herself; from the very core of her being, overwhelming her in its fight to be at last unleashed; to be free.

Rey didn’t know if the piercing scream had left her throat. If that was the source of the faint ringing in her ears.

She was _drowning_. She wasn’t strong enough, and she was drowning.

The darkness was a tidal wave, and it carried her away.

And if that darkness truly came from within her, then her battle must be lost before it had even begun. Then all her chances were already wasted.

It washed away the room, and the desert, and the forests of Takodana; skies and oceans and lives. Until she was left in the darkness. Until she was utterly alone.

Her head was pounding, and she faintly registered that she must have collapsed onto the floor. Faintly, she felt her entire body hurt and ache. But it was so far away, in another world and reality, and the battle of her body to keep up was nothing next to the battle going on inside her mind…

A battle she was losing. 

She could hardly feel a thing, yet she felt the sob as it broke its way up her throat.

The dark became deeper, and as she fell endlessly down into the abyss, she wondered if she was becoming utterly insane. If this force, this darkness was truly taking her over, whatever it was. Whomever had created it.

_Do not give up. Do not let go now._

But she didn’t know how to resist it… She couldn’t fight a force that she didn’t even know. That she could not _see_.

She wanted to give up.

_**REY!** _

A shout, a plea in the distance.

Her name. Spoken in a voice of such desperation -- filled with such devastating emotion. And, beneath that; blazing, white-hot fury.

A call. Not to give up, but to fight.

It startled her -- awoke a realization in her.

She was not alone.

The darkness faded, the shadows retreating to the corners of her vision. And Rey saw the room yet again, the place that was her reality -- and the person before her.

Dark hair and pale skin and slashing scar -- it was real. It wasn’t something she imagined. And eyes again forged of bronze, fixed on her; glowing like embers from within, lit up by the fury -- it was real. _He_ was real.

Vaguely, she thought she saw, sensed a new kind of glow. Something wholly different. 

Yet something that felt strangely, utterly familiar. She wondered briefly if she now had embers in her eyes, too.

And she felt a dim, star flecked calmness flood her, as a soft breeze gently caressing her skin. 

She was carried away, drifting lightly on beams of moonlight. A feather light scent of honeysweet flowers. The darkness -- the hostile dark, the _other_ dark -- retreated wholly, replaced by night; by indigo skies and a soft, distant glow. A calm dark.

And then… Then she was another.

… _It was a simple picture. It was a glistening mirror of calm water. Not the sea -- a lake, but a lake large enough that the distant opposite shore seemed ethereal in the soft morning light. As something that could have been of another world entirely. Barely a ripple existed in the clear water; bright as though illuminated from within. Barely a wave to move the smooth stones on the lakeside, stones of every colour and shape imaginable. When, eventually, a breeze would cause a ripple to reach the shore, it would make the stones in the low water whisper to each other…_

… _He liked this place. It was one of the few places that he thought he truly loved. It was a little boy’s eyes that gazed out across the water, a child’s imagination that was caught and moved by the scenery. By the ways he felt connected to this place, this lake, this shore. The calm, almost unmoved silence of the early morning. Quiet, as though something deep and calm and ancient was waiting for something to occur. He sometimes wondered what it could be. Other times, he simply stood and waited along with it. Or took the chance to wait and worry for nothing at all. He realized the beauty of the place, of the quiet. The melancholy and the loneliness. A beauty like that of the night sky filled with stars._

_A woman’s voice reached him, calling a name -- his name…_

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Rey opened her eyes and found herself once again lying on the floor. 

As her eyes adjusted to the vague lighting of the weapons’ room, she had the strangest sensation of something having occurred while she had been away -- either lost in the turmoil of memories and minds, or perhaps partially unconscious. As if a storm had come and raged, and ebbed away again before she could glimpse it happening.

Slowly, carefully, she came to her feet.

The room was chaos erupted.

The weapons lay hither and thither on the floor, quarter staves randomly piled with daggers and swords, many of them broken or devastated in some way or another -- as though a storm had indeed blown through the room and ripped them out from their stands and keeps. The various stands and cabinets themselves stood either pushed away somewhere in the opposite end of the room, or lay turned over.

As Rey watched the considerable mess with something like awe, one of the lights on the wall flickered, faded and died out.

Then, at last, she turned around to look at Kylo Ren. 

He was standing, but if he too had been overwhelmed by whatever force had gone through this room, she couldn’t tell. She thought his skin looked slightly paler -- the scar standing out starkly on his face. And his eyes… His eyes were fixed on her. And the expression in them was… Not shock, or awe, but maybe a sort of wariness. Assessment, or wonder. Perhaps he had been silently looking at her like that for some time. For how long, she faintly wondered, had she been unconscious?

She almost flinched in sheer surprise when he broke the silence.

“Are you -- hurt?”

Her mind felt blank. Thoughts and feelings of surprise went through her. Whatever she had expected him to ask, or say, or maybe blame on her… This wasn’t it.

Hurt -- she didn’t know if she was hurt. She couldn’t figure out anything concerning her own mind in that moment.

A deafening silence filled her. She felt it as though she had been hollowed out by that darkness, by those memories exposed and turned and then cast away until it all felt like some confusing mish-mash of thoughts. Of -- deadness. Now… Right now she didn’t know how to feel about any of it. Couldn’t feel anything. 

Now she felt as though only emptiness was left in her; scattered thoughts blown away and vanished before they could form a sort of sense. Her mind was a lifeless, infinite wasteland of bones and howling winds. 

She didn’t answer his question. Instead, she asked, “What happened?”

Her voice came out quiet and shaking -- hoarse, as though she had been screaming. Rey silently cursed herself for not sounding stronger, more steel-hearted. She wondered if she looked as devastated as she felt.

He stared at her for a moment before he answered in a calm voice. “You let go of your shields -- you lost all control of your mind. By doing that, you made yourself confused and disoriented, lost in your own memories.”

He turned half away from her, as if to take in the chaos of the room. At a first glance, his stance would seem casual, unfeeling. But as he looked away, she saw how his whole figure was tense with energy, power coiling around him, as if he was trying to contain some inexplicable fury.

“To lose control like that -- to lose your way… It can be dangerous,” he said slowly. Carefully. “If you get drawn into the depths of what is kept within a mind, your grip on reality can slip. One can easily become blinded, seeing only memories of darkness and despair, blind to the presence that is true and real. And if you fall deep enough, it can be difficult to return. For those who are powerful, that power can be easily unleashed beyond their dominance and control, causing nameless devastation.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “I -- did I do this?” she whispered.

He met her gaze; inscrutable, sorrowful eyes locking on hers; dark and glittering and wide.

“Power can be a dangerous thing to contain,” he said quietly. “If not properly leashed… If one loses control of it completely, loses oneself, it can easily drive to insanity.”

She then held his gaze for a while. None of them spoke. She thought that she sometimes saw glimpses of light -- sparks or flares in the depth of his eyes; there and then gone again.

She couldn’t help but wonder.

The words once more flashed through her mind. _Are you hurt?_

And… It filled Rey with a restlessness, a frustration that would have seemed unexplainable. Such a simple question, really. _I’m fine_ , she could have answered.

But he wasn’t even _supposed_ to show that kind of concern, that kind of -- _care_. He was the Knight. As far as she was concerned, she was his prisoner. Although… He hadn’t exactly put it that way himself. Could that be the reason still? That he simply didn’t want her to die or become otherwise useless until he was finished with her?

In that case, she might as well have it ended already. Even if…

 _I lost control_ , Rey thought with something like dread. A tang of fear -- of the unknown and strange. A fear for all the things and aspects she couldn’t possibly be known with yet.

She didn’t want to imagine what could have happened, had she unleashed her powers fully. She had lost control, and she might have truly lost herself -- had she not had help. _He_ had helped her. 

The night breeze and soft moonbeams had been… Him. And the voice that had called her name had been his voice, too. Somehow, strangely, he had saved her using the access and connection to her mind, called on her and brought her back to reality. 

She didn’t want to think of how much she might now owe him. What that could all mean -- what it might change.

Had it again been from the need of keeping her alive and sane? To save her for the mere convenience of it --

And yet across her inner vision flashed a glimpse of a lake coated in mist, a brief scene of dawn’s light and… Calm. A boy.

Her attention shifted back to his gaze, and for a moment, all of her thoughts seemed to fade away.

“There is something you should see,” he said.

_____________________________________________________________________________

They moved only a few corridors away -- towards the very center, Rey somehow felt. Away from any sense of daylight. Into the dark heart of the fortress. As the training room and the leading corridor had been abandoned, so seemed these dim passages and high-ceilinged hallways completely void of other life. So, so silent, she thought. So many shadows; so many passages that could lead anywhere or nowhere.

They had left the other room in its state of spectacular mess.

Rey was again lost in thoughts and speculations as they stopped, standing in a massive doorway leading to an equally massive hall. Her voice echoed through the dead silence when she finally spoke:

“What… What is this place?”

The place revealed its greatness as they stepped inside.

It did look like a hall; a dark room only lit up by small lights at the entrance, casting long shadows on the walls and the floor. The corners were invisible for Rey’s eyes, as were the shadowed ceilings high, high above them.

At first, she thought nothing unusual was to be found in here. She heard a sound like sliding doors, and she looked to the side just to see a small table slide into the left wall and disappear. There had been something small and dark on the table, but it was gone before Rey could see what it was. Ren showed no reaction at all.

She now noticed a large, crimson banner with the black symbol of the First Order embroidered on it, hanging down the opposite wall -- appearing to ripple slightly in a non-existing wind.

He inclined his head slightly, and answered her question.

“This is the secret domain of the Knights of Ren.”

He stepped out towards the center of the room and turned his face upwards to face the banner and the symbol upon it.

“The Knights of Ren are a group of specially trained warriors, devoted to serving our Order and our Supreme Leader.”

Frost spread out through her veins from his softly spoken words. From understanding.

“Wielders of the dark side of the Force,” she said slowly in a faint voice. She was surprised her voice didn’t shake. “Destroyers of a Jedi Order.”

A strange sorrow swallowed her slowly from the inside. Because of _knowing_.

She had seen those Knights -- had seen the dark, nightmarish glimpses of what they were. 

It had happened on Takodana; deep down under Maz Kanata’s domain by the lake, where she had found the coffin with the lightsaber of Skywalker. She had seized the lightsaber -- and the Force had shown her images, visions as vivid as though they were her own memories.

She had seen a group of warriors dressed in black, their faces covered by masks; unhuman and deadly, impossible to recognize from one another. Kylo Ren had been standing in the front, bodies lying around them on the muddy ground. Corpses empty of life.

Rey remembered the vision just as clearly in the very moment, and again she could feel the gruesome atmosphere of the scenery. The dark feeling of death, the uncontrollable, murderous rage that she realized must be the sense of the dark side. The screams of pain; the loss of so much life wasted.

She knew what the Knights of Ren had done, that dark deed above all. So much of the Force, so much wasted life. An entire generation of Jedi, annihilated. What had yet again been built up so carefully was now gone, and all that work had been for nothing.

 _They murdered them_ , Rey thought.

“All of them,” he said quietly, and she wondered if she had spoken aloud by accident. She found that she hardly cared. Her soul, her body felt matte and lifeless. All that work for nothing… All that wasted life.

_All of them._

As she saw bodies, other bodies, fall to the ground around her, as vividly as though she had truly been there. As she heard the screams of pain and fear… the crackle of a catching fire… the sound of igniting lightsabers…

She felt tears trickle from her eyes.

It was monstrous. Soulless, unhuman.

 _You’re a monster_ , she thought.

His voice was empty.

“I know.”

She looked up and searched his face for feelings. It was not nearly as untouched as his voice seemed. Truly, the reality of what he had done seemed to mark his eyes and his face, as if for the first time he was feeling the pain on himself. His body was bent over, a gloved hand pressed against his heart. He gazed up at the red banner, looking like he desperately wanted someone to give him answers. Answers – but to what questions?

“It was a long time ago,” he whispered, and Rey did not know if it was meant for her, or for no one.

They stood there in silence for a while, every second seeming to tremble as it passed.

He looked up, and there was a wall of adamant concealing his feelings; his face as carved in stone, his eyes cold, blank and lifeless. Dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for reading -- and as always, feedback is much appreciated. :)


	11. Flares

He jolted awake, shivering and gasping for breath.

The darkness was as complete as it had been in his sleep, not a glow left of the lights next to his bed.

The chamber was ice cold. His naked upper-body drenched in sweat, it was no wonder he was trembling so violently he could almost hear his teeth clattering.

In a sudden movement, he flung his legs over the edge of the bed and rose to his feet. The stone floor felt icy against his bare skin.

His mind was in a raging turmoil. In the dense darkness of the room, he found it hard to convince himself he wasn’t still asleep.

Dreaming. Sensing. Whatever it had been. Something new; something strange, yet so oddly familiar.

It hadn’t quite been a dream or a vision.

It had been but a feeling. A dark feeling. A feeling of wrongness, of despair.

He cursed softly -- then grabbed a light robe to wear with his trousers. He left it untied, the cold whispering against his skin, against his bare feet. With a flick of his hand, the door slid open, and he strode out of the dark chamber without looking back.

_________________________________________________

He found himself suddenly standing at the door to her chamber, almost as though his steps had taken him here on instinct. He barely noticed that the stormtroopers who should have been stationed in the corridor were nowhere to be seen.

He braced a hand against the metal door, knuckles standing out white in the dim lighting. He stood there for a moment, his chest heaving as he drew in air. His breaths came in shallow gasps -- the sound of breathing was the only thing to break the deafening silence.

Then, cursing himself once more, he made the door to her chamber slide open, and entered.

She was lying on her bed, asleep. Naturally she was asleep -- it must be dead in the night. He breathed a faint sigh of relief by the sight.

Lights on either side of the door cast a vague, pale glow inside the room, leaving every corner in shadow. Rey lay on her side with her legs curled up beneath her -- her pale skin illuminated, her damp hair spilling over the pillow. She looked so young and slight in her sleep, he thought. So fragile and delicate.

Yet -- something was not right. Just as the thing that had awoken him, something about her sleep seemed strange. _Wrong_. In a way that made his skin crawl -- and he thought it had nothing at all to do with the cold. He felt it radiating from her, the strangeness. As if he was falling down, deep down, having lost all control of the dive.

The next thing he did, he did as though from pure instinct -- reaction without thought. Calmly, slowly, he approached Rey’s sleeping figure.

Up close, he saw the way her eyes were frantically moving beneath fluttering eyelids. They were rimmed with dark, curling lashes that cast shadows on her cheekbones. There was a damp spot on the pillow from her freshly washed hair.

Kylo Ren kneeled down next to her bed, and gently reached out a hand to stroke back her hair. Her breathing was quick and shallow like his own.

He reached out towards her mind with a whisper of his own. A thought, a feeling of calm. A feeling he thought must come from something like herself. The soothing calm touched the barest edges of her mind without fully entering. It came gently, in slow strokes of a sun kissed breeze -- warming, whilst keeping a distance. In the way that it had never been, until now.

He could hear her breathing even out, becoming deeper and slower. Her eyelids stopped fluttering as she fell calm.

He released a deep sigh. A strange sensation touched his soul feather lightly in the absence of the flickering dark. He thought perhaps it was relief, but he couldn’t feel sure. So many emotions and feelings had become like strangers for him -- distant, so that when he once again would feel their touch, he would hardly know with which names to label them. It seemed supposed to be that way; the weaker emotions eventually fading away and becoming memories. The only ones remaining would be those that made him stronger. But he was no longer entirely certain how things were supposed to be. How they would become.

Her skin looked unfamiliarly pale in the vague lighting. Ghostly and frail, and tinted purple beneath her closed eyes. It didn’t look right, didn’t _feel_ right. With a strange, painful pang in his chest, he thought this wasn’t how _she_ was supposed to be either -- captured, locked inside a room hidden away from the sun and the light; like a bird with its wings bound, held in a cage. Held with no chance to roam free, to be unleashed.

He thought it wasn’t the first time he was watching her sleep. Not the first time he saw her lying like that, her eyes closed, as though already drifting toward another world. Such a young and vulnerable look on her face.

Yet not quite peaceful. It was almost as though, even asleep or unconscious, she couldn’t fully allow herself to rest. Maybe to forget. As if she still was not sure of her own being and belonging. As if she still hadn’t found her place, her path. And for a moment, he thought of the image of a young boy gazing out across a calm lake. Always questioning; always feeling the twisted pang of doubt and wonder…

_No_ , he thought bitterly, darkness clouding his mind. He would be fooling himself to think that they were alike in such ways. Once, there might have been a whisper. A faint shadow of that reality. But that had never been the will of his fate. And Rey was not like him. In some ways, he had begun to think they couldn’t have been farther apart.

_But then why did you bring her here?_ a voice spoke tauntingly inside his head. _If not because of the fact that you realized those resemblances; the promise she could be?_

_Because I’m treading the path to madness_ , his darkness thought back. _Because I have stared into the depths of the abyss and contemplated the fall._

Perhaps for that madness, he found it impossible to resist the urge to touch her face. Gently and lightly, almost as if in trance, he stroked his fingertips across her skin, tracing the elegant bend of her cheekbone.

Her face was ghostly cold -- and he came to wonder if all this could be the aftermath of her collapse in the weapon’s room earlier that day. When she had lost control of her mind, and a darkness had threatened to take over. It had been something that had overwhelmed even him -- and he had _felt_ it, sensed the allure of its eerie nature, through that strange connection to her mind. Yet it had had a whisper of something that he _knew_. That haunting, beckoning darkness that he knew so well.

_Did I cause it?_

He had violated her mind, forced his way through her deepest memories; her deepest sorrows. He had moved _on_ , even as he felt sick with himself. For witnessing all that despair. For making _her_ feel so helpless.

Maybe that had been what had resulted in her exhaustion, lowered her defenses further…

With a low snarl, he broke the intimate contact and rose to his feet in a fluid movement.

It _didn’t matter_ if she broke. If his powers appeared too much for her to cope; if she shredded herself to pieces because of her useless inexperience, her persistent lack of control… 

He didn’t care. He _shouldn’t_ care.

She was an object to observe. Something that could be extraordinary -- but nothing more than that; an object. She was replaceable. And to eliminate her, now, before she became a real threat, might only benefit their cause...

Immediately after thinking those thoughts, he wanted to laugh at himself. That some part of his mind could still be so _naïve_. As not to _realize_.

But it simply _had_ to be that way. What other choice did he have?

That cause was above all. It was his sole call, his destiny to seize. And so it must be raised above all minor inconveniences and distractions.

He silently damned her to hell.

And he felt dark hatred rising up in him. Good -- such a relief… The anger was good -- as long as it didn’t burn away his self-control. It sharpened his sensed, ignited a shadowed fire in his blood. The darkness was well-known. And clearly it still existed as fiercely within him.

So she hadn’t yet broken him completely.

Nothing about his presence seemed to have shaken her sleep. Even as she was calmer, that sleep seemed still too deep -- unnaturally deep. As though she was being dragged still farther down into the depths of unconsciousness.

He turned around and exited the chamber without glancing back at her sleeping form -- without letting himself become affected by another whisper of that foreign calm. Wiping away the memory of that sudden glow; that unexpected spark of emotion.

___________________________________________________ 

As Kylo Ren walked through the lightless maze of corridors and pathways leading to one of the main hangars, he fought to regain a clear mind over the rising roar of the darkness in him.

He needed to be able to think. He needed to remain clear-minded and focused on the path -- even as the power burned in him, begging to be let out. Burned, so that for a moment it even seemed to overshadow the sense of connection to that other living being. The glowing light that he now left behind.

And, even in that state of mind, he felt a strange sense of triumph. What he was about to do was not something Ben Solo could have done -- never. He had changed. He had already become powerful far beyond the imagination of that little, lonely boy. The boy who had hadn’t dared to dream, much less dared to let those visions become real.

He no longer had a choice.

“Bring me my fighting leathers,” he ordered the trooper who stood stationed in one of the corridors close to his quarters. The faceless soldier turned and proceeded to follow the command even as Kylo Ren passed him.

“Take your division to the eastern hangar,” he said as a troop commander silently came up alongside him.

The stormtrooper from before reached them, and Ren silently accepted the familiar leathery clothes and the cloak. Along with that, the mask. His own personal armour. He dressed himself in the different pieces as they proceeded to the hangar.

Tonight, he would become the person he was meant to be.

The apprentice of Supreme Leader Snoke. A Knight of Ren, as powerful in the dark side as any lord of the Sith. _Jedi Killer_ , some already whispered about him. He would make sure he continued to live up to that name.

Kylo Ren -- a worthy heir to Darth Vader. A worthy leader of his cause.

Ben Solo would be destroyed. He _vowed_ it to himself, and the sense of purpose burned in his blood. The dark side would be his servant. The dark side, he thought, had always been the only thing that could lead him far enough.

With darkness, he could gain the ultimate victory.

Even if _she_ turned out to be more powerful than any of them could have imagined. Even if she might already have made her choice.

Even if she had chosen the light -- and she was shining.

_There is no choice._

_There will be nothing left._

Finally reaching the eastern hangar, he strode across the vast floor to get to his shuttle. The ramp was being lowered. Troop transports in the hangar were being prepared to take off.

The dark fire within him flared up, burning furiously. He let it burn. It was aimed towards something -- mixed with that new sense of purpose. He would forge it into a spearhead, a sword, and he knew the target it would strike. It would all become unleashed.

He approached the ramp to the shuttle as he dragged on his gloves. Then he put on the black mask. Oh, he had missed the sensation of the armour. Yearned for the sensation of taking on the true appearance of who he would be.

It would be a revelation.

The darkness within him rose to a roar, drowning any other thought but that purpose. Swallowing up the gaping, bleeding slash that had slowly been cut into his soul. The darkness bade him to forget.

The mask would no longer be a disguise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	12. Everything Falls Apart

Rey had collapsed on the bed as soon as she was back in her chamber. One of her guards had closed the door, leaving her alone in the soft darkness.

She’d stopped caring about being locked away.

She was feeling terrible. Her doubt, her insecurity, was beginning to fill her up, in a way so she feared it might pour over the edge. All the worry, all the fear. She found she almost wished _something_ to happen, just anything that would make it clear once and for all why she was even here. She had seen a great part of this place now -- as far as she knew -- and she had been told many things about the First Order, important things, but it still didn’t reveal _why_. It was useful information -- it could be, if she ever got away -- but it still did not reveal anything about their plans for her especially. And she felt barricaded. Restless.

He had _tested_ her -- perhaps in more ways than she even realized. She had yet to find out whether she’d passed the test.

If her fate was already settled, decided, she wanted the chance to face it.

Rey had seen how massive this fortress was. Had she not realized it before, it was now very clear for her that she could hardly escape from this place alone. Not without her friends coming for her… There were simply too many guards, too many stormtroopers and too many rooms she had to get through unnoticed. Even if she made it to the hangars and got to steal a ship to escape in, who knew if she would even get out of the system in time? Their pilots would be after her in the matter of seconds… They would likely shoot her down, and she would have missed her chance of usefulness… And that didn’t even count in how by the Force she would make it so far.

Even if she might… No, she wouldn’t. If she stayed here, at least she would have a small chance of survival -- and a chance of making a difference. That chance still remained. A chance was all she needed.

And if nothing better came up, she intended to make use of what she had.

And then there was _him_.

Her mind went blank, and when it wasn’t, it was occupied by thoughts upon thoughts, like whispers of shadow, like coils of smoke rising and twisting in and around each other, except that they didn’t disappear the moment she opened her eyes.

_Who was he, who was he, what was he?_

Son and betrayer and murderer. Knight and Jedi, light and darkness. Creature and monster and human, and a monster trapped inside a human. 

Or a human, trapped deep inside the darkness of a monster.

And what did he _want_? What had he done, what would he still do… And what did he want with _her_?

Kylo Ren had done many terrible things since he turned to the dark side; Rey knew that -- from what she had heard, from what she had witnessed, from flickering images of his own memories. She thought she could still feel the presence of him, as he tore down the walls of her mind, as his soft voice spoke to her, as he witnessed her weakness. As he gave her strength; the only frail thread keeping her tied to who she was, in the moment when she’d almost gotten lost.

And yet she could never predict what his next move would be, what he would decide to do next. Especially not now.

His unpredictability was what made him so dangerous.

_Creature and monster and human, and a monster inside a human._

_________________________________________________________

Because of the strange exhaustion and dullness in Rey’s body, she soon closed her eyes and leaned back -- and for the first time since she came to the fortress, she fell well and truly asleep.

It was no calming, peaceful sleep. She kept shifting from side to side on the hard covers of the bed and even in sleep, even in her most desperate attempt to _not care_ , she couldn’t find rest.

First, there was only darkness, as if she was swimming around in endless black water with no visible signs of life. In sleep, she thought it strange that she could swim, that she didn’t drown, for she had never tried swimming in her entire life. Perhaps this wasn’t swimming at all, but simply falling through water.

Why did she not drown?

And in sleep, she absently wondered what could be wrong with her. Had they given her some sort of poison or medicine that did this to her? They couldn’t have, could they? But she did not think so; no, it didn’t feel that way, she thought. This felt like _her_ , and yet like something entirely strange.

She tried to move her arms, her legs, but found that she couldn’t. She wanted to thrash, to scream, but no sound came across her lips. And the water closed up around her, devouring her, filling her up until only the water was left. With its cold shadows, its silent darkness.

 _No_ , she thought, _not again_.

The darkness pushed in on her, willing her to allow it in.

_No. I don’t want this._

_Go. Go away._

It didn’t go away by her will. Something else came, and it bade the shadows to vanish. It bathed her with calm, the light serenity of dusk and dawn. Under its presence, the shadows retreated, for it was something that was, at the same time, alike them and their complete opposite -- something they could never defeat.

Wonder filled her, and the strange presence stayed, lingering as they were bound together by a single thread. A simple, feather light touch.

She missed it when it faded and disappeared. After its leave, she sank into a new, dim depth of sleep. Of existing.

And waited.

After what felt like hours and hours, it all changed. Rey felt as if she was being dragged up and up from the soft hazes of half-consciousness that surrounded her, and suddenly she found herself standing with solid ground beneath her feet, on a planet that was unknown to her at the first sight.

Sand and rocks covered the planet as far as she could see. It was very dark; it seemed that the sun had disappeared and something else had covered for the moons, for the shimmering distant light of stars. Everything felt so real for Rey, even though she knew, deep down inside herself, that it could not be real, that it had to be a dream. She felt the terribly warm air filled with dust against her body, and the lack of wind made it feel sickly hot to breathe in. It wasn’t a natural air. It was thick with _something_ , she thought…

It was thick with death.

There was nothing special or significant in sight but stone. Nevertheless, a fearful sensation slowly crept over her body and mind, and she desperately wanted to run but she found herself unable to. Stars, it all felt so _real_ , as if she was really here on this unknown planet, but she wasn’t, she couldn’t be… No, she was inside her cell in the fortress on Vennarn, and yet she was here -- as she had once been down in the basement beneath Maz Kanata’s castle by the lake, and yet on a darkened field scattered with bodies…

Suddenly Rey knew what it was. It was no dream, but a vision. A vision provoked by the Force.

Force-provoked visions, like the one she had experienced on Takodana, were strange and unpredictable. It wasn’t unusual for old Jedi Masters who had studied and connected themselves with the Force for many years… They would sometimes receive visions as some sort of message. A message of something odd and unnatural happening, that they had to be made aware of. Sometimes it would simply be a sudden feeling of change; a sign that something was terrorizing life, upsetting the Force itself… A disturbing feeling of the balance being pushed askew.

Something so powerful it could be _sensed_.

What was the Force trying to show Rey now?

She had barely conjured up the thought before everything around her changed. A sharp wind blew her around and it was so powerful she was unable to stand up straight. She was whirled around and around by it, faster and faster, until it was dizzying. The sound of the wind roared in her ears, growing louder and louder still.

It didn’t feel like a natural desert storm. The wind was like a narrow tunnel that locked her in, and the sand was blown up around her so she couldn’t see a thing on the other side… She was whirled around against her will by something that was far stronger… she was hidden and locked away, _suffocated_ …

Rey felt cold and panicked, and a deep, crawling fear of the unknown slowly grew inside her.

What if this was being done to her by someone -- what if someone, or something, had the powers to control her mind like this at moments when she was most vulnerable?

Rey strived to get her mind under control. If this was some sort of trial -- a testing of her strength -- she would stand it. She was strong enough. She wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , give in. The Force was the only thing she had left with her, and if she failed, she would have nothing at all.

 _Fear is the path_. She had to stay calm and force down her darker feelings, the dark hopelessness that now threatened to _flood_ her… _Fear is the path_. She had to remain calm, calm until the winds had blown far away…

 _The dark side_.

She closed her eyes and blocked her ears from the noise. And she tried to imagine something. An image, a sound she could carry with her deeply inside until the darkness abated. A light; the image of a sunset in the desert, because nothing made her feel lighter and more calm. The sun, so saturated with colours, painting the dry landscape with bruises of fire before it disappeared behind the dunes… 

Every night the same; a cycle that kept repeating itself, untouched by the dark, by all the cracked and broken things of the world. An image she could think of until there was nothing left in her mind but that.

Rey breathed in deeply, over and over. Inhale, exhale. Moments passed, and suddenly everything changed around her once again.

She opened her eyes and let her hands fall down. She immediately realized that the wind and the flying sand was gone. In one short moment, the air had gone silent as the grave. Rey’s pulse calmed, her frantic heartbeat slowing. Her tense muscles relaxed and she stood up straight, trying to notice if something seemed different… 

Then she felt something else, too. Like a flare inside her, lighting up the unfamiliar dark. The presence of something, or someone, else. She couldn’t see anyone else, but she sensed that she was not alone.

The silence felt different. Nothing stirred, nothing moved, not a single gust of wind in the aftermath of that roaring storm…

But the silence was brief before the screams started. 

Horrible screams of pain and fear, of death, cut through the night like blades, and she had to cover her ears while she couldn’t help but scream in fear herself. The screams were terrible; terrible and fearful and they sounded like the end of everything. And she felt that fear, and the pain, and thought maybe it _would_ be the end of everything. This was the sound of the very balance of life and death being pushed askew, and the Force inside Rey felt it.

Then it was as if a veil was lifted from the world, and she could see everything.

She saw that she was standing in the middle of a village, a large cluster of small huts and tents built for the desert. It was still night and the sky was still dark, but the village was everything but calm. People were running around and in between the huts with lit up torches in their hands, small children fearfully screaming, hiding behind their mothers, as if only they could shield them from the world. And Rey saw why.

The darkness grew deeper as huge shadows gathered above the village, unnatural shadows that shouldn’t be there, that didn’t belong. The sickly hot air was filled with the screeching sound of enormous engines, so deafening that they rose above the cries of fear. Dark ships landed in different places around the village and stormtroopers in white armor spilled out, filling up the streets within the matter of seconds.

They quickly got control of most of the village’s inhabitants. None of the villagers were accustomed to fighting. The stormtroopers forced the people towards the center, acting completely synchronized as if they were simple battle droids, rather than humans with individual minds. The thought of Finn briefly ran through Rey’s mind -- was this how his future would have shaped if he hadn’t escaped in time? Was this how it _was_?

She stood paralyzed when the troopers seized their blasters and began shooting.

There were so many villagers praying, begging for mercy to no use. So much sorrow and pain. Helpless tears started streaming down Rey’s face because of the horror she witnessed, and still she was unable to give any kind of help. Utterly unable to do anything but simply stand and watch as those things were happening somewhere in the galaxy. And she knew they were.

This was a vision, and the things she saw were real. Somewhere in the galaxy, the First Order was claiming a new planet and executing an entire village in this very moment -- or was this the past? The future? Something inside her told her it wasn’t.

And Rey had a fear that it could get even worse than this. She sensed it, though for the moment she couldn’t think to imagine how.

Some of the villagers had managed to escape out of the circle of stormtroopers, and were running towards the outskirts of the village, making a desperate attempt to escape out somewhere in the desert of stone. 

One of them, a young boy, ran directly for the point from where Rey was watching. She did the only thing she was able to in this body or presence, and turned around to follow the fleeing figure.

She saw his chest become pierced by a flaming red blade.

The warrior dragged his lightsaber out, and the boy’s dead body fell to the ground with a sickening thud.

In the darkness and horror of the night, with the background of screams, smoke and blood, Kylo Ren was terrifying.

He was tall and horrifying and _elegant_ ; a predator hunting in the night. A black cloak fell from his shoulders and the fires that had started in different parts of the village reflected and became distorted in the dark visor of his mask. The long cross guard saber was ignited in his hand, crackling with force, blazing with a reckless and fierce energy, and he held it out in front of him as an instrument of death.

This was the Master of the Knights of Ren; a monster whose soul was lost to the dark side. A person who would do anything to become more powerful. A person who wouldn’t hesitate to kill, murder more people in order to achieve what he wanted. A creature worth fearing.

Rey was shaking uncontrollably, helplessly, the despair rising within her as she was unable to cry out, to scream, to _move_. Unable to do anything that would stop this from happening.

At that moment, Kylo Ren seemed to feel her presence. It was the only explanation she could find, as he turned his head to face her directly.

And she was met by a wave of emotions that weren’t her own.

It was suffocating, swallowing, consuming… Burning rage and piercing madness -- fierce, uncontainable darkness.

It wasn’t her mind; no, those feelings didn’t come from her -- and yet they cut straight through her and overwhelmed her, and she wasn’t even certain anymore.

She looked into the black visor of the mask, beneath which his deep eyes were hidden, eyes so shadowed and inscrutable. And she felt as though she was being dragged toward that gaping dark, coming closer and closer until there was only the darkness surrounding her.

____________________________________________________

Rey quickly sat up in her bed. She was sweating and shivering all over her body, as though suffering from a fever.

The vision was still clear in her mind -- and it still felt so real. She looked around in her dark chamber and knew that _this_ was her reality, but still she kept hearing the screams and desperate prayers, kept seeing the flashes of light from shooting blasters -- and the fire from the crimson lightsaber. 

The aftermath of the vision felt like shockwaves going through her body, ripping her apart from the inside, _demanding_ her to sense it for herself.

Sorrow, pain and forever death.

__________________________________________________

After a while, Rey started to regain some control over herself. She tried to be calm, even though her mind was still far away, somewhere on a planet of stone.

It was now that she noticed something she should have probably noticed before.

The door leading out from the chamber stood open. 

It wasn’t just something she imagined; the door was definitely standing ajar, as if something had come in between it and the wall and prevented it from sliding entirely shut. A narrow strip of light from the outside corridor fell onto the dark floor. Taunting. Alluring, that little glimpse of freedom. 

On top of that, it seemed that her two stormtrooper guards were gone.

Rey didn’t know what to make of this. Why would they leave her in the room with an open door, completely unguarded? Could it be some sort of test -- a trap?

She desperately wanted to take those few steps out of the chamber, but she didn’t know where she would go from there. She thought that she would probably get caught before she got to the end of the corridor…

Nevertheless, she was soon standing up next to the bed, holding a tight grip around the handle of her lightsaber, and she was out of the room before she knew of it.

It felt as if something guided her steps. In one way or another, she managed to stay in the small corridors and narrow passages, not encountering a single stormtrooper or First Order officer on her way, or even a droid. The area was completely, utterly silent. She had no idea where she was, and she didn’t know the way out of the fortress after all, so she just kept steadily walking.

And she did not know if there was some sort of meaning by it, or if it was simply a curious accident, but after a while she found herself standing outside a cavernous, dimly lit chamber. 

She had found the way back to the hall of the Knights.

Rey quickly realized she was not alone. Kylo Ren was here, too.

He stood with his face turned away from her, his helmet off, and his thick dark hair falling almost to his shoulders. If he had noticed her coming, he didn’t give any sign to acknowledge it.

He was standing in front of the large banner of the First Order, but he did not look at the symbol on it. His body was leaned forward over what looked like a small table, and something was lying on that table, something small that had drawn all of his attention.

He looked so very different now, Rey thought, from what he had looked in the vision. His mask gone, his face looked pale in an almost feverish way. His scar was clearly marked on his skin, stark against the light. He shifted a bit to the side, and Rey could now see what the object on the table was. 

It was a mask.

Or at least it _had_ been a mask. It looked like someone had tried to destroy it; crush it against something or maybe even burn it. It was black, and had marks that definitely looked like burns, one of its sides flattened and hollowed out.

Kylo Ren was speaking to the mask.

“Forgive me… _Help_ me. Why am I not strong enough? I should be, I ought to be, but this mistake, I do not know how to undo.”

His body was tense, and his hands were holding a tight grip around the edges of the table. They were covered by black leather gloves.

“I have made a promise. I have sworn an oath. I will not waver. I know how to meet my fate…” His voice had lost strength until it was nothing but a whisper, making lonely echoes in the great hall.

“The light. It’s still there, I can feel it. Growing stronger every moment, making me weaker. _Why_ can it not be banished,” he said desperately. “Why did it not disappear when I killed him?”

He fell to his knees and lowered his head, as if he was being tormented by an invisible burden. The mask was still lying on the table -- almost as if it was staring at him, blaming him.

And Rey couldn’t find any sense or reason to this. 

The Force in her had made her see a special vision, a vision in which Kylo Ren and the First Order had shown themselves as how dark and how _deadly_ they were. All the death, all the fear was _wrong_. But now, something had made her find him here like this. At a moment where he seemed so fragile, so vulnerable, with no resemblance at all to the monster in the mask. 

_The two sides_ … And maybe it was truly an accident, but a strange accident for sure. She wondered if there were even any such things as accidents.

A voice sounded in the doorway, and a shock went through Rey’s body before she realized that she couldn’t possibly be visible where she was standing. Just for safety, she dragged herself deeper into an alcove beside the entrance, from where she had an excellent view of the hall.

The voice talking belonged to Captain Phasma in the silver armor. The captain stood just on the other side of the open door, hesitating to walk in. It looked like she was afraid to take those few steps inside the hall, as though it was an area forbidden for her to trespass into.

“Sir, our freighters are fully prepared and ready to be sent off with their respective types of cargo. The pilots are awaiting their orders.”

Kylo Ren stood up immediately and straight, and instantly under a mask of control.

Rey was very aware that he didn’t turn to look at the captain for a second. His face was still turned away from the entrance to the hall, and she only saw the jet black hair, just touching his shoulders, surprisingly soft looking. She realized with a strange feeling that he rarely showed any part of himself to anyone. Only for her, and then the previous day… But then it had been while he was walking alongside her, as though he was doing it _for_ her. An intimidating mask usually covered his face, and even the smallest bits of his body were always covered, like his hands in the gloves. Nothing that was _human_ was allowed the chance to shine through.

He had told her himself, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it startled her anyway.

He was still looking away when he answered Captain Phasma, his voice sounding perfectly plain and neutral. Only someone who had seen him the moment before would have noticed the slight difference. Or maybe only she would have noticed the difference.

“Send the freighters carrying iron bars to the Mustafar base. The ships with food and supplies will go to the training camps.”

“And the weapons, Sir?” Phasma said.

“To the troops stationed on Belderone,” he said.

The captain nodded quickly, turned around and walked away, metallic boots clattering against the blank floors.

When the captain had gone, Rey started moving slowly out of the corner where she was hiding. It wasn’t a move she had fully decided, but something that seemed to happen by instinct. She did nothing to resist.

She walked with small and light steps that were barely audible, and moved carefully and steadily towards the center of the hall. At this point, she knew he had to be aware of her presence, but he didn’t turn around. Didn’t do anything to show that he acknowledged her.

And so she came to a halt, too. She had felt the sudden instinct to walk closer, and it didn’t seem that he was going to call for guards to take her away. 

He was still turned away from her.

Her body froze as he started speaking.

“What is the Force?” he said softly. Rey stayed silent, her breath faint. 

“Day and night, the dark and the light, but what is in between?” he said. “The grey space doesn’t exist. And if it does, then why is that the nature of us, simple beings…? To _exist_ there. To always be something weaker, something changing… Never quite in the same place, never truly powerful… Yes, humanity is weakness. All those things in between, they’re bound to crack; to crack and fall apart…

“I was once another. I was once Ben Solo, but Ben Solo fell apart, met his end, and he left blankness behind him, something that was lesser and simpler. Something that is purer.”

He had finally turned around. In the dim light, the contrast of the scar and the smooth skin was stark, the shadows beneath his cheekbones deep. His bronze eyes were ignited. Something was alight in them as he looked at her, and it was a spark that felt at the same time odd and familiar.

“The balance is between,” she said quietly.

“But does a balance really exist?” he asked. “A balance should be peaceful, should be _right_. But there is nothing peaceful about the place between dark and light. There is only loss, and conflict, and pain.”

He had moved slightly closer, and Rey found that she had done the same without really thinking.

“You are a scavenger,” he said, his gaze unwavering from hers. “Alone, abandoned on a desert planet with no knowledge of your fate -- and yet you are powerful. How does it _feel_ ,” he demanded, “to discover a life that is so much greater? You were _gifted_ with the ability to bend the Force… Tell me, scavenger -- do you feel _chosen_?”

She didn’t answer, standing immobile as a statue, as something carved out of stone.

He looked away, almost triumphantly, and continued, his voice stronger:

“I did. From the moment I learned about my inheritance, about the true source of my power, I knew. I understood my destiny. I knew what had to be done, what had to be lost, and found…”

“The dark side brings only death. Only sorrow,” she whispered.

“But death is unavoidable,” he said, his voice falling to an equal whisper, his eyes glassy. “It will come. Whether you bring it, or cause it, or suffer it. And we who have those powers… The power to push aside lesser creatures, weaker beings… We often stand left, arisen above the fallen.”

Rey felt a knot of something, clawing its way up her throat. She didn’t know if it was a reply, or exhausted tears. Because she didn’t know how else to act or reply. Or maybe because she had begun to _understand_. 

She understood him, because she now knew the power, and she knew the burden it could be. 

“But that is not the right way,” Rey said quietly, her voice surprisingly calm and steady. “The First Order is _wrong_. It brings death and pain where it goes, controlled from above by the dark powers.”

He looked up again, his face suddenly cold with anger.

“Luke Skywalker has taught you to think so,” he said bitterly. “The Jedi always think they are so almighty, that only they know the best… But the truth is, they don’t _know_ at all, don’t know what it’s like…”

“You are covering the galaxy in a darkness that is not right, and that I am certain of. With the dark methods and rules of your master, you are destroying the very balance that keeps it together.” _I didn’t learn_ that _by heart._

Something strange happened then -- the anger and coldness vanished from his expression in a second, leaving question. A sort of curiosity that she couldn’t figure out.

“But what is left to hold together?” he asked softly.

Rey swallowed, and said, “Everything.”

She was standing so close to him now. She could see all the details of his face -- his features made unusually sharp, carved out by the spared light in the great hall. And yet, the softness was there. The vulnerability that never left. 

A certain beauty.

The red banner rose above their heads, symbolizing the dark power and terror that was a signature for the First Order. For the Knights of Ren. _He_ was a signature himself; a figure with a mask and a lightsaber who was meant to bring fear where he showed up. And he had caused fear, and terror… But was it the person itself, or the cause it represented, that was truly worth fearing? 

Sometimes the lines between those two were blurred out, impossible to recognize from one another.

He was a Knight; a murderer, a monster…

_The creature, the human, the monster, the monster inside the human._

_A human trapped in darkness._

Sometimes, those lines were marked as sharply as ever.

“People have died tonight,” he said, his voice a whisper.

“I know,” she said. His gaze was transfixed on her face, wide and deep and alight.

“You were there,” he said. “A piece of your presence was _there_ , and I felt it… But _why_?” he added with a strange tone in his voice. He now seemed mainly to be talking out loud to himself. “And _how_?

_Why?_

She didn’t know herself. She didn’t think she truly understood any of it.

Did not know why her fate and his had apparently become such a messy tangle -- inexplicably, yet undeniably.

They were inches from one another. So close that the dark hall with the banner became a blur, and all she could see were the details of his face.

A stray strand of black hair falling over his eye, over his scar. Inscrutable eyes, framed by long lashes. His full lips slightly parted, as if in wonder.

He reached up and touched her cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. She didn’t pull away. Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe it just wasn’t an option.

“You’re a strange thing,” he whispered. “So powerful, so bright. And yet you never think to use that power for your own gain. Always thinking about others, about saving those you care for…”

The tips of his fingers were grazing her cheek -- feather lightly, and yet it felt as though he was tracing white hot marks across her skin. His touch sent drops of fire trickling down her nerves, and she was so very aware of the thin layer of leather that separated skin from skin.

He tipped his head slightly to the side, watching her as though she was something utterly new.

A mystery, that he could not unravel.

“Such a glow,” he murmured. “Treacherous, and yet the call is so strong… One must be affected by it.”

She held her breath, astonished. And she found herself wanting what he said to be true. She _wanted_ to be powerful, she wanted to be strong. A glow; a light to guide not just herself, but those around her.

“I cherish the light because there are people I love, fighting a war in this very moment,” she said. Her voice was hardly stronger than a whisper, yet she remained still, holding on to his gaze as though it was something magnetic. “People I will do anything to protect,” she said. “ _Because_ I love them. 

“You sacrificed everything in order to become more powerful. You left everything behind that you loved… And at the same time, you destroyed the people that loved you.”

That gaze… Alight with a strange, desperate fire; a look that startled her and, at the same time, brought her closer. Beckoning.

Her breath caught in her throat by the sudden vulnerability in his eyes, his face. Otherworldly, different, yet as human as she had ever witnessed it.

His hand reached a strand of her hair, and he gently pushed it back, running his fingers through it. He leaned closer, and she remained perfectly still, some soft part of her mind noticing the fresh scent of night and air that clung to him, wondering how his raven black hair would feel if she ran her fingers through it…

She followed his gaze as it trailed down her throat, her collarbone -- and suddenly, another new feeling overpowered her, like a spark igniting deep within her…

Without thought, her mind reached out -- so easily, so naturally -- softly calling a name, the first name she could think of; a name spoken by a woman one early morning many years ago, at the shore of a lake…

The moment was broken with a snap. He turned away from her, a painful expression on his face. He looked down with dark eyes, his hair falling over his forehead, his hands clenched into fists. Silence reigned, time was ticking by, and yet it felt nothing like a silence. Not peacefulness, but conflict and turmoil. Day and night and dark and light, and whatever existed in between.

Some time passed as they were standing there like that. Rey watched him carefully, awaiting something to happen.

Then finally he spoke again, and his voice sounded deep and bitter, laced with the fury that always burned somewhere beneath the surface; nothing left of the gentleness he’d shown just before.

“Love is for the weak. You cannot build an empire from love.”

There was a short silence dwelling, lingering between them. Rey inhaled the air, suddenly cold and tight in her lungs.

“No, love is like the Force,” she said finally. “It is what holds everything together.”

He let out an unexpected, frustrated sound, like a snarl, and backed away, his face turned to look at something, anything that was not her.

“It’s time for you to go,” he said bitterly. Rey was very aware of his tense body, his behavior suddenly cold and threatening.

She hesitated at first, lingered with her body half turned away, but then he looked up again, and the darkness in his face, his eyes, was so deep and alien that it startled her.

“ _Leave_ ,” he snarled, the malice in his voice frightening.

She turned around and moved towards the doorway with no other thought than to get out of the dim and shadowy hall.

Her body felt numb, her mind empty of thought.

Any faint spark, for the moment forgotten.

She walked fast through the empty corridors, and she didn’t turn to look over her shoulder a single time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Vennarn, the location of the fortress in this fic, is a planet I made up. Most of the other planets and locations in this story will follow canon -- this is an exception.
> 
> So, this chapter was definitely important, for our characters and the story... I hope you enjoyed it!  
> Thank you for reading, and please consider leaving some feedback.


	13. The Only Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe he had not thought clearly ever since he learned of her existence.

In the time that came after, Rey got to know her small chamber extremely well. No one called for her, and no one ever opened the door, but still she knew that the two stormtroopers were back and guarding her room. They were likely to be watching her sealed door carefully every single minute, so even if Rey had wanted to walk outside, she couldn’t.

A strange matte feeling had crept over her, and she soon fell into a sleepy trance; never quite awake, never quite asleep but always something in between. As she’d soon realized, it was the best possible way, if one even existed, of avoiding her own thoughts.

She would either walk endlessly back and forth on the small amount of floor that she had, or simply lie on the bed, staring up at the dark ceilings of the room, even though they looked suspiciously like the walls and the floor, all of them bare and undecorated. The room was like a box, she thought. A box that never changed, always dim and locked away from the outside world.

Only later did she realize that the thought of _escaping_ hadn’t even crossed her mind -- for a long while.

Sometimes she would hear the soft murmur of voices from the other side of the heavy door, but she could never pick up enough to figure out what the conversations were about.

Rey knew very well that she would end up driving herself mad if she thought too much about, well, anything of the present.

She had to stop worrying about her friends and the Resistance. It was for no use, and it did not make it any better to think about the things she could not change. Neither if she would ever be able to.

And she couldn’t think about _him_. Him, and the strange, unpredictable ways he behaved around her, his conflicted self.

_A strange thing… So powerful, so bright… One must be affected by it…_

No. Thinking about it wouldn’t be any good now.

When lying on her bed, staring up into the shadows in the room’s corners she would play a game with herself. A memory game meant to make her feel peaceful and calm. 

Rey would then imagine the sunset on Jakku. She would think about it and memorize it until it felt so real, like she was actually there. 

She felt the heat against her skin, slowly getting more bearable as the night fell over the desert. The exhaustion after a long day of work, and the weariness she felt after finally getting to eat her sparse dinner.

It was in these moments that thoughts about her past would come to her mind. There was no room for such thoughts during the day, as she was always on the hunt for new shipwrecks with useful parts hidden in the sand. But at night she would look up, silently, at the sunset setting the sky aflame, painting it with smears of red, orange and golden, and she would begin to think, to wonder, about things. Anything. Everything.

The desert planet had been her home for as long as she could remember. She knew that she had come to Jakku when she was only a little child, and she had no memories of the time before that. She knew that she hadn’t just been on the planet her whole life, but that someone had put her there to stay. Rey doubted she was actually born on Jakku -- at least; she’d always thought that was unlikely. She could in fact be from anywhere in the galaxy, but she wouldn’t know. She had never been able to remember her parents, or the ones who had brought her to Jakku (she realized the possibility that those might not be the same people). Eventually, she would also begin to wonder about her lack of memory (she ought to be able to remember _something_ ; anything) -- but then, it wasn’t as if there was much she’d be able to do about it. 

The days had become years as she realized they would probably never return for her. It still awoke a sting in her chest by the wish to know about her parents, to know at least if they were dead or still alive, somewhere far away. But the days on the planet had slowly started to blur together, and she had established a life for herself in the desert; a hard, monotone life to help her survive. To make her carry on.

She would now remember how alone she had been, how her lonely days had passed then. What might have happened to her if BB-8 and Finn had never found her? Would she have continued her simple life, not knowing about the Force and the powers that existed in her? Would the First Order have found her anyway at some point, so she _would_ have been dragged into this conflict, this war, nevertheless, in one way or another? The war, that was not just a war between a suppressing power and those suppressed, but something more than that, a war that was eternal and unavoidable. 

Always changing, and yet somehow always about the same.

In the end, it was no fight between people. It was a fight between two forces as powerful and as old as time. One could remain and watch on the sideline, or one could participate. And she did not think _she_ had a choice anymore when it came to that.

Rey did not believe it had been a complete coincidence when she ran into Finn, who had just managed to escape from the Order. The Force in her had awakened, and she had been meant to finally leave the desert planet and become a part of what was happening across the galaxy.

Her thoughts drifted. They wandered about, travelled to memories distant and present. At last, they landed on Ahch-To -- on the green islands standing proudly in a sea of turmoil, far away from any touch of civilization. 

_“An infinite stream of energy that flows through the very fabric of the universe, and strengthens it. Life creates it, and it creates life. That is the Force,”_ Luke had told her once. 

_“There are many religions. Many points of view, and all are different from one another, though all of them are true in their own way. Some think the Force to be the very spirit of the galaxy, the energy that binds it together and keeps it alive, as if we were all one. One organism._

_“The Force is the sum of life. When many lives are lost, it can be felt as a disturbance or a reducing. Those few of us who are sensitive to the Force can feel that energy within themselves. They can bend it, and use it to give them powers beyond the ordinary; beyond imagination, even. What can be accomplished when one wields the Force is nearly limitless. But it is a power that should always be handled with great care. The Force itself is balance, and as much as it glows, it can be equally used for dark purposes.”_

_____________________________________________________

Then, sometimes, her thoughts would drift to the memory of the slave woman, and all the other slaves who’d been in that hangar; the images still vivid and fresh in her mind.

And she made a decision for herself, then; that she would not let the sacrifice of those people be in vain. Never would she allow the galaxy to forget about those less fortunate. The ones who would see their whole life ripped from them, piece by piece. The ones who would _refuse_ to stand down despite everything; who would continue to fight for the life and freedom of themselves and those they loved, till their very last breath.

Rey imagined the fierce gaze of the woman, pointed at her, and it was as though the echo of that voice, that song, could still be heard -- as a whisper from somewhere far, far away.

_I will not fail you_ , she promised.

____________________________________________________ 

 

“You cannot be serious about what you’re suggesting --”

Kylo Ren watched the much loathed figure of the red-haired general before him as the latter spoke.

“However… _special_ this one might be, compared to other hostages and prisoners in our possession, we should treat her with the same awareness, if not significantly increased. This person could endanger the First Order considerably. I am afraid that you aren’t thinking clearly when it comes to this… _girl_.”

A dozen retorts had surfaced in Ren’s mind while the other man spoke. He’d barely restrained himself from snarling them out loud, simply to avoid listening to the other’s babbling. He also thought he wasn’t supposed to allow himself to become irritated, even provoked, by someone like General Hux. Such things should be far beneath him. Though admittedly loathsome, with a frightfully superior attitude, the general was someone of less importance and significance. Someone who shouldn’t be capable of causing him this much annoyance.

Instead, the retorts remained unsaid.

_Ignorant fool. She is no one’s possession._

_Of course she is dangerous. More dangerous, and more powerful, than someone like you would be able to imagine._

_And I have not thought clearly since I learned of her existence._

_Most likely, I’m still acting like a deluded fool._

He suppressed a weary sigh. Hux was an inconvenience, but something he simply had to get over with. 

“Be mindful of your words, general,” he said, his voice cold, carefully laced with malice. “The Supreme Leader trusted this girl to be handled by me. Are you doubting the decisions of the Leader?”

“I trust the Leader when he claims that this girl is far more dangerous than any ordinary prisoner,” Hux said, or rather snarled. “And you are about to remove her from this fortress -- the only place where we can be completely sure to keep valued hostages from escaping. Regardless of the countless risks involved, you intend to move her to a much lesser guarded fortress, in a system far closer within the rebellion’s reach --“

“She has been trusted to me, General, as I alone would be capable of keeping her under control,” Kylo Ren said, a threatening note to his voice as he began to lose what little patience he’d had. “I follow orders from the Leader himself -- and she is my full responsibility, whatever might happen to her under my command.”

They were walking down a long corridor, boots clacking and Ren’s cloak whispering against the polished floor. Any droid or officer they happened to encounter had enough sense in them to quickly get out of the two men’s way; one dressed in a perfectly fitted uniform, the other dressed for battle; both fuming with ill-concealed fury towards the other. 

“You are the one who should tread carefully now, Ren,” Hux said grimly. “Do as you wish. I won’t come across you as long as you take full responsibility of your careless decisions, should your judgement of the situation fail. I know you stand close to the Supreme Leader -- I know about your powers; about that ancient religion of yours. But I advise you not to forget that _I_ am the general; I am the one who was placed in command of this fortress --”

“Under the agreement that the Knights of Ren would have full access to the facilities of this planet and fortress, with no interferences into our personal matters,” Ren replied with threatening calm. “As I advise _you_ not to forget, General.”

_Why is he still following me_ , he thought, fuming. Strangely, for a brief moment, the image of the slaves from the hangar, that he had once passed while walking alongside Rey, flashed across his inner vision, and he felt a sudden urge to mention the slaves to Hux. Maybe mock the general, asking whether it couldn’t be considered a waste of live intelligent beings to reduce them to simple working machines, something less valuable than droids.

He chose to remain silent. In the end, he felt, _he_ would probably end up as the one becoming humiliated in that conversation. He didn’t have the time for that now.

Maybe what he was about to do was madness. Maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly. Stars, he _knew_ he wasn’t; not when it came to her. 

But he wasn’t about to let such unimportant things, like Hux, come across him. Questioning his decisions. He already did that himself.

Suddenly, almost automatically it seemed, he came to a halt. They were standing in a narrow corridor, only a pair of stormtroopers present apart from the general and himself. 

Then, perhaps too late, he realized they were standing in front of the door to Rey’s chamber.

___________________________________________________

 

After an undecidable amount of time, Rey noticed as something changed. There was a murmur of voices to be heard from the corridor outside, which wasn’t a new thing, but these voices came undeniably closer, growing continuously louder.

Within a short moment, Rey’s thoughts became crystal clear and focused. She sensed that she was curious to find out whether something was about to change for her, no matter what it could be.

She reached out for the lightsaber lying at her side and jumped to her feet, and soon she was leaning against the heavy door, trying to figure out what the voices were talking about.

It sounded like two men talking, which was all she could hear. They came closer, and she heard the muffled sound of a voice she didn’t recognize. Another voice answered, and she recognized it as Kylo Ren’s.

Her heart was pounding in her chest. There was a long moment of silence on the other side of the door.

Then the door was opened via the controller on the other side, and Rey drew back quickly and winced at the sudden burst of light into the room. Quickly, she hid the lightsaber behind her back and stood with her back against the opposite wall.

The stormtroopers were still standing outside, and Kylo Ren was there, too in his usual black clothes. A long cloak was hanging from his shoulders as if he was about to go outside, but he wore no mask. The long, dark hair fell messily around his face.

Another man was standing next to him, a few inches shorter but still, as she noted a bit sourly, considerably taller than Rey.

Contrary to the insecure situation she was in, she couldn’t help but bother. It wasn’t that she was exceptionally small; in fact, she was quite a suitable height for a female human. She thought she just had a bad habit of engaging with people that were, firstly, often male, and most often a lot larger than she was.

The other man was wearing a simple black uniform -- undecorated, except for the First Order insignia embroidered on his left shoulder -- and black boots. His red hair was cut short in military fashion. His jaw was set and his brows arched, his face set in a possibly permanent expression of displeasure. 

She thought she knew who this man could be. She had heard about him --his name was Hux, and apparently, he was a general.

It was clear from both of the men’s attitudes that neither of them would prefer to be within a mile’s radius of the other, if they were to choose.

It was Kylo Ren who spoke to her.

“My shuttle will be leaving this planet shortly. I am to visit a number of other settlements of the First Order, scattered across the galaxy. I want you to come with me, at least to the first of our destinations. It might be… eye-opening.”

“You’re moving me?” Rey said, her voice sounding oddly quiet. He looked at her, contemplating, for a moment, then nodded.

She felt herself tingle with a sudden, restless energy. Different thoughts battled in her mind. This was a _chance_ , an actual chance for her to finally leave this fortress and this planet. If they were going to fly her away from here, to another planet and base… But they would probably be watching her constantly, she thought, not giving her slightest chance of--

_Escaping_. She hardly dared to think it.

Nevertheless, for some inexplicable reason or another, she found herself nodding plainly. It wasn’t as though it would make a difference after all, probably. And maybe -- oh, despite everything she wanted to make herself hope -- maybe, she could even make something of this. 

Kylo Ren made a casual gesture, showing that she could walk outside, and before she got out in the corridor, she quickly let the lightsaber slip down in her left boot, where it would be hidden away from sight and easy to grab. 

Just in case.

To say that the general looked displeased with the sight of her, freely standing in the corridor, would be an understatement. Before she could take another step, he gave sign for the stormtroopers to move up and flank her either side.

As if she would attempt to run in the center of this huge fortress. As if the presence of _Kylo Ren_ right next to her wouldn’t be enough to prevent her from escaping.

Ren clenched his jaw, a dark glint in his eyes, but made no objection.

Rey swallowed, but decided she would rather go through anything than lose her composure in front of someone like General Hux. It was a mistake she couldn’t afford now.

They left in silence, the general staying in the corridor, positively fuming.

The heavy silence remained as they proceeded to the hangars, and a cold, tight feeling in Rey’s chest grew.

It wasn’t one of the larger hangars, she instantly registered when they entered. This one was significantly smaller than the hangar from which the slaves had been sent away…

A large, A-shaped Upsilon Class shuttle was waiting for them there; its two massive wings closed up into a looming shape, its size appearing monstrous even as it stood still on the ground.

Scattered around the shuttle was a number of small TIE fighters with their pilots, ready to take off and follow the shuttle, presumably as an escort -- and she couldn’t help but feel curiosity at the sight of the fighters. Was this simply safety precautions? Or did they actually fear an assault?

The two troopers did not waver from her side until they were actually standing on the ramp extended from the shuttle. And it was in that exact moment, as they were standing at the very edge of the hangar, that Rey could finally see the sky again.

The open hangar led out to a deep blue night sky. Thousands upon thousands of shimmering stars twinkled softly across the endless dark, and she could see the three moons of the planet, each of them shining mirror bright like miniature suns.

For her, who had not been outside for a long time, the feeling of fresh air and open sky was intoxicating.

And she felt _alive_.

Kylo Ren placed his hand lightly at the small of her back; as a signal for her to move forward. She cast one last, longing glance at the deep blue above before she was inside the shuttle, with once again a roof above her.

He was standing so close she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Yet something about his presence, his demeanor, was cold and foreign in a way that made her feel oddly uncomfortable. Though his touch was light, there was no mistaking she ought not to try to resist.

Why, she couldn’t see how she would attempt to do that.

He continued to lead her forward, the guards falling behind at a respectful distance. 

And all the while, he didn’t cast her a single glance.

Contrary to what one could presume, the amount of free space inside the shuttle was sparse. Its interior consisted mainly of a corridor leading all the way to the cockpit in the front, and doors on either side led to small cells, which she assumed were storage rooms for cargo. Larger types of cargo -- maybe even prisoners and hostages.

He led her into one of those larger chambers, empty at the moment except for a vaguely humanoid, silver plated droid, and practically shoved her inside before he made to turn and leave --

_No_. She wouldn’t have it that way. She didn’t know what it was, but a significant part of her mind _objected_ to this, to them both behaving like this, as if nothing had changed at all… 

She didn’t want it to be this way.

Rey didn’t know what made her do it, but before he could walk away she called, “Wait.”

He hesitated for a second -- then turned slowly to face her.

It couldn’t be as though whatever had happened in the hall of the Knights never took place. It couldn’t be that nothing had changed -- that everything would simply remain their strange and crooked ways. It was _wrong_ \-- wrong in a way she couldn’t explain, but that she could feel.

He was watching her, silently, his eyes like cooled bronze. 

She didn’t know what to say, or do.

He twisted oddly, as though in doubt of whether he should move or stay. His gaze became deeper, almost sorrowful, and the shadows were regret.

He said, “Don’t get too close, bright one.”

_For there is darkness inside me._

_Darkness that will only corrupt, and consume you. And you are so close to the light._

She didn’t even care, right then, that the last words had not needed to be spoken out loud.

Didn’t care to try to figure out what any of this might mean.

In that very moment she thought it was as though every invisible wall, every façade had broken down -- that at last, she could see just the faintest glimpse of what was the _truth_. And there was a quiet gentleness, traces of that strange sadness in his deep voice. And she was paralyzed, muted, but then he turned around and walked away without another word, black cloak billowing in his wake. 

As though, truly, nothing had happened at all.

With a dim feeling of defeat, she slumped to a sitting position on the floor.

The shuttle and the TIE fighters went into the air, and Rey instinctively rose to her feet, taking a small step forward -- and was then forced to halt. The silver droid was over her immediately, babbling confused nonsense in Binary, the angry beeping coming from it enough for her to understand that she _absolutely couldn’t_ leave. A nurse-maid, it appeared. 

Well, wasn’t that just brilliant. 

She sighed exasperatedly and shot the hysterical thing a sharp glare. Did it really think she was going to escape from _here_? To do what -- attempt a daring jump out into the open space through which they now travelled? Assuming she got past all the other beings aboard this shuttle, equally determined to make sure she stayed put.

It would be a quick method of taking one’s own life, she supposed. She wondered briefly if the maid-droid had been put here specifically to keep her from doing anything so rash.

They could have spared their efforts. Indeed, she wasn’t going to commit suicide just now.

Rey sighed, then shrugged indifferently and walked to one of the corners of the room, her arms crossed. There -- surely now the droid couldn’t complain any longer. 

She slid down until she was sitting on the bare floor. She carefully felt the outside of her boot; the lightsaber was still there.

The feeling of having her weapon so close was calming. There might be nothing she could do now at all; she might not even know their destination, nor the true reason why she was being moved. But, should she see an opening, or be in need of fighting her way out, she would be prepared.

She felt a sudden exhaustion and dullness in her body. It wouldn’t do any harm to just close her eyes for a moment…

_________________________________________________ 

_Rey._

_Rey, clear your mind._

Rey’s eyes flew open, and she rose to her feet within a fraction of a second, alarmed by the voice she could hear. She looked around for a moment, trying to figure out where it came from but saw nothing. The room looked the same, empty and bare except for the droid, and she could feel that they were still travelling in space. She had only been gone for a short moment, and not entirely sleeping.

At that point -- a bit too late, she thought dryly -- she sensed the other presence in her mind, and she realized that the voice she heard was inside her head, inaudible for any other than herself.

For one brief moment of confusion, she thought it must be Kylo Ren, speaking to her like this, but she soon realized this presence was another one entirely.

_Be careful with who you let inside. Once you let down your mental shields, anyone determined enough could take advantage of your weakness_ , the voice said, and Rey recognized the voice and the presence as Luke’s. An overwhelming relief filled her by the sound of her master. 

_Master Luke! I’m sorry -- it won’t happen again. How -- what is this? How is this even possible?_ she thought back.

_I have been trying to reach you for days_ , his voice sounded. _I wasn’t certain whether it would be possible. I could feel your presence when I searched -- faintly, somewhere far away. But it was like something was blocking me out… Until this moment. You’re closer. Still, I couldn’t be sure if we’d be able to speak to each other freely like this -- I believe it would depend on whether our bond was strong enough._

She breathed quickly, trying to create some sense of order in all the thoughts and questions rising up. Luke didn’t react; maybe with this connection, only the simplest messages and signals could be exchanged -- only the important things she chose to share. Could she have tried to reach out to her master like this herself, during the time she had been held in the fortress? Could she have been able to sense if he was alright, if she’d tried? 

Something had been blocking him out -- was that herself, unconsciously? The far distance between them? She had yet to figure out how so many of these things worked…

He asked briefly whether she was in some way hurt, and she assured him that she was well. Even then, in the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but think how faint and weak this connection felt next to the connection she had earlier felt with Ren -- like a faint radio transmitter signal in comparison.

_I’m fine -- I promise_ , she told him. _And how are you? Did all of the Resistance get away? And what about Finn and --_

_We are doing well. A few of our pilots fell under the attack, but most of the Resistance managed to get away before it got worse. Your friends are unharmed, but worried._

Rey couldn’t help but smile. Her body suddenly felt light, as if she had been relieved of a heavy burden she hadn’t realized she carried. Finn, Poe, Leia, Luke… They were all fine.

_Rey, you must listen carefully now for we don’t have much time_ , Luke said. _I sensed that your presence was getting closer, unobscured by whatever was clouding it before. If you can confirm some of the information I’m about to give you, we might know where you are. Or, at least, where you’re heading. We might be able to rescue you._

She held her breath. _I understand. Tell me what I need to know._

_The Resistance has had small droids, nearly untraceable, attached to some of the First Order’s ships, troop transports, cargo shuttles, ships assigned to some of their most commonly known bases -- anything the fighters have been able to get close enough to. One of the droids reported back some intel it had overheard -- about a command shuttle arriving shortly at the base where it had been placed, on the smallest moon of Yavin, carrying ‘a person of highest importance and rank’. It was heard that the shuttle would also be carrying a special and valuable hostage, why it should need an escort for protection._

Rey felt her heart starting to beat faster.

_We initially thought it could be any prisoner or hostage_ , Luke said. _But then I sensed the change in your presence. Though it was still vague, I could sense you, properly, for the first time in a while._

_I’m aboard Kylo Ren’s shuttle now_ , Rey told her master quickly. _I don’t know our destination. I think we’re travelling through hyperspace now. We could be anywhere in the galaxy._

Luke answered her, hastily.

_If it really is that same shuttle, you should be approaching the Yavin moon in short time. Some of our squadrons are on the way, and will be ready to strike. In the middle of the battle, you must try to take advantage of the confusion and chaos that rises._

Rey’s body was filled with a sudden sizzling energy. She felt anxious and, for the first time since the battle on D’Qar, hopeful.

_They must be careful_ , she said. _They’ll have to keep out of reach from the First Order’s sensors -- the pilots would be a match for the TIEs but they have to strike before the Order can get reinforcements from the base. It must be while we’re still in the air --_

_The pilots are prepared. Ready yourself, Rey. Once an opening occurs, you must run._

Rey nodded automatically, then realized he couldn’t see her.

_Yes, Master_ , she thought, and she felt Luke’s presence fade and disappear from her mind.

She paced back and forth across the small bit of floor in the compartment, trying frantically to keep a somewhat calm composure, while inside, she felt as though she was bursting from that new, exhilarating feeling of hope. She _couldn’t_ stay calm. She felt anxious -- and restless.

All the while, it seemed that her mind was busily trying to fathom the unexpected and exhilarating fact. That the Resistance knew her location -- the place she would soon be arriving at. That they were coming, to fight the First Order’s fighters. To attempt her rescue.

Immediately, all the doubts and bad forebodings began to rise up among one another in her mind -- what if they didn’t make it? What if it wasn’t the same shuttle, the same moon? What if the First Order arrived with reinforcements, too many for the Resistance to cope? -- and she forced herself to focus.

She reached out carefully through the Force. She could vaguely sense the presences of the other livings beings in the shuttle -- among them, she sensed his, like a dark spark among the fainter lights. She tried to shield her mind the best she could, to hide her emotions behind impenetrable walls. 

This would be her only chance. She couldn’t risk failure.

It would not be long before something seemed to happen.

She felt a slight change in the movements of the space craft, and thought they had probably exited hyperspace. By the muffled sounds of voices from the cockpit at the rear, Rey understood that they were just about having reached their destination -- a minor moon.

_Let it be this moon_ , she thought. _Let it be Yavin._

How close were they now? Were they within the moon’s atmosphere? Would they soon initiate the landing process?

The man she suspected to be the pilot suddenly raised his voice, making it possible for her to listen to every word. She stood tensely, listening.

“Sir!” the pilot said. “We detect enemy starfighters, X-wings, approaching from space!”

Though softer, with a dangerous calm to it, she easily heard Kylo Ren’s words as he replied.

“How come none of your computers, nor the base’s sensors on the ground, were able to detect the enemy fighters earlier -- _before_ you started the landing?”

“But, Sir,” the other said, his voice faltering just a bit. “There was nothing to detect until moments ago! They must have remained in hyperspace until the very last moment before they entered the atmosphere.”

He broke off. Rey tensed and felt her heart beating a frantic rhythm; already hearing the unmistakable sounds of battle outside, already sensing the disorder and confusion among the crewmembers by the sudden, unexpected assault. 

“Contact the base,” she heard Ren order. “Request reinforcements immediately.”

She heard people cursing from another part of the ship, and the shuttle made an unexpected move to the side that nearly sent her crashing right into the wall.

She could almost feel the confusion among the rest of the people aboard rising to panic. Whatever the escort had been meant for, most of them had not expected this. The droid who had been guarding her, not leaving her out of sight, suddenly shuffled away without taking notice of her.

Rey knew this was her chance. Perhaps the only chance she would ever get.

A chance she would not let go wasted.

Her heart was now beating as though it was trying to force its way out of her chest. She could feel the adrenaline gushing through her veins like droplets of fire.

_Now._

She almost fell out of the small compartment and started running down the corridor, feeling as though she was moving the fastest she had ever done, her world narrowing in to that one point ahead of her, at the end of the corridor.

She saw something move in her peripheral sight, but she did not turn around.

She _sensed_ the person quickly catching up, chasing her, but she did not turn around.

She reached the end of the corridor, the end of the ship, almost colliding head first into the wall because of her breakneck speed. She smashed her hand into a button on the wall next to her using all her strength, and the great ramp slowly began to fall down.

Rey’s mind was overwhelmingly filled with impressions as the world outside was revealed to her.

They were drifting mid-air within the atmosphere of the moon, but still high above the surface. An ocean of trees and rocks far beneath her, filling her vision with lush green; the open sky above a fading blue. 

The air was filled with dozens upon dozens of X-wing fighters, evidently trying to blast their way through the First Order TIE fighters surrounding the black shuttle. Standing exposed on the lowered ramp, red and green blasts being fired from all around her, the sounds of the battle were deafening.

She saw two of the black TIEs being hit by the Resistances fighters, spiraling fast towards the ground with dark wisps of smoke in their wake.

A shot from a laser canon hit the flank of the shuttle, causing it to shake and tilt alarmingly to the side. She felt a jolt of panic, as she swayed and had to grab onto the side of the ship with both hands to stay balanced. An icy wind blew around her, blowing her hair in front of her eyes so she was blinded.

Frantically brushing her stray hair away, she looked up to see the familiar shape of a grey Corellian freighter soaring through the air towards her.

It was the _Millennium Falcon_.

A renewed feeling of hope rose inside her, as she saw the well-known ship, easily dodging the TIE fighters that were busily occupied fighting the X-wings, moving carefully closer until it seemed to be nearly still in the air, dangerously close to colliding with the shuttle.

Rey started moving carefully down the ramp, but something was preventing her escape to freedom. As she attempted to keep her balance, someone was evidently causing the ramp to rise, slowly closing. She felt a rush of force, a power that felt familiar.

She turned, and saw Kylo Ren standing in the opening, black cloak billowing around his tall figure in the wind. His face was a mask of stony resolution. Though he wasn’t moving at all, it was clear who the source of the invisible power was.

She kept her balance, trying to stand up straight even as the ramp rose and tilted beneath her feet. She closed her eyes, focusing. Deep inhale, slow exhale. _Find the light._

Slowly, very slowly, the ramp began to fall back down.

Rey forced herself not to look at the dark cloaked figure, but look forward. She saw a familiar head popping up from an opening at the top of the _Falcon_ ; an emergency exit. It was no other than Finn, carefully maneuvering himself out through the tiny opening, until his head and upper body were free. 

A deep, warm feeling of relief flared inside Rey by the welcome sight of her friend. 

He looked at her, his face expressing the same relief; then a shadow of fear and panic as he noticed the person behind her. Moving as fast as she could without risking a fall to certain death, Rey crossed the last distance between herself and the _Falcon_.

A powerful voice sounded from the middle of the ramp.

“REY!”

Finn had both his hands held out, preparing to help her jump the last bit she needed to cross the gap to the _Falcon_ ; the last step she needed before she was saved, before they would fly far away. But the moment she heard Kylo Ren shouting her name, it was as if every instinct in her betrayed her at once, telling her to halt and look back.

She was aware of the hazardous position she was standing in; one foot placed on the roof of the _Falcon_ , one foot still on the shuttle ramp, the gap between the two ships slowly but surely increasing.

Han Solo’s son was standing passively, attempting nothing to prevent her from escaping.

Rey watched his scarred face. His thick black hair fell messily, tangled by the wind. He looked strangely, unusually lost as he stood there, a lonely figure.

His face expressed an odd mixture of feelings. Hopelessness. Failure. 

Loss. A strange and inexplicable loss. As if something had been broken inside him and ripped away.

She heard the distant sound of Finn shouting her name behind her, begging her to come down to safety.

Before Rey could think, she held out her hand. She looked into his umber eyes and held her hand out towards him. Offering him to take it. She didn’t say anything out loud, but across the gap of nothingness between them, she sensed that strange connection, flaring brightly to life, more powerful than ever. She didn’t have to speak. She thought the words; felt them.

_Come with us_ , she thought. _Come with us and turn your back on everything. Leave the First Order. Leave your Master. Return to your family, or just run away. Start over, start a new life away from all of this._

_Let me save you._

It was then as though every wall he had built around himself cracked and fell apart completely, and for a moment, all the shattered emotions were exposed and laid bare; the light and the darkness.

His eyes were shadowed when she tried to read them. She thought the expression in them was one of sorrow, of suffering from something unbearable. That these were the eyes of a person being torn apart into several pieces.

In a brief, shivering moment, everything was quiet around the two of them and it seemed that time had simply paused. In that briefest of moments, Rey almost thought he would actually take her hand. 

But then his face went blank once more. The frail, glowing veil that had, for a precious moment, separated them from the outside world, fell apart and scattered to the winds.

His eyes grew as cold and lifeless as ice, impossible for her to read. Every wall and façade once more forced into place. Without a second glance back at her, he turned away. And disappeared into the dimness of his ship.

Away from her. Gone.

The world around her seemed to have gone suddenly hostile and cold.

“Hurry, Rey!” Finn called, a sharp, fearful tone in his voice. “We have to go!”

Rey finally jumped the last step to the opening, and he almost dragged her down into the belly of the ship. TIE fighters and X-wings still soared above them, appearing to be locked in an infinite battle.

Rey heard another familiar voice calling from the cockpit of the _Falcon_.

“Both of you in?” Poe said.

“Yes! Yes! Just get us the hell out of here!” Finn shouted back.

The _Falcon_ had slowly been drifting away from the shuttle, and now its engines seemed flare to life anew as they put more distance between themselves and the enemy. Finn reached up and activated the latch for the emergency exit, and the outside world was sealed off.

Rey leaned against the wall wearily, once again feeling a strange kind of exhaustion in her body and mind. She closed her eyes, trying not to think too much about anything as every second brought her farther away. As every moment, every heartbeat, brought them farther apart. 

“I think I’m getting the hang of this junk pile,” Poe hooted with pure excitement and exhilaration. 

The _Falcon_ accelerated to light speed, and they were gone within another heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, apparently, this chapter took some more time for me to edit and write through than I anticipated. I hope you liked it.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving some feedback.
> 
> MTFBWY <3


	14. The Taste of Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suffocating shame. Overwhelming regret.
> 
> A conflict. A promise. A dark order.
> 
> And a song.

_Failure._

The knowledge of it was a sickness, spreading through his body. Like a venom, slowly infecting and corrupting whatever was left in him that wasn’t already broken. Whatever parts of him might remain that weren’t useless and wrong. Twisted. Lost. _Weak_.

_Failure._

_I let her go._ The thought of it still left him in a state of horror and disbelief. Confusion. _I allowed her to escape._

_I let her go._

He could still feel the consciousness of his disloyalty, down to the very core of his being. The shame. The bitter taste of his failure overwhelmed him. Would it ever abate?

She had reached out her hand to him. Such a simple gesture.

Yet something that could never again become undone.

His hands were clenched at his sides, so tightly he could feel the bones crushing against each other. The pain was insignificant. The pain didn’t matter now.

_Failure._

The word was a song inside his head, chorused by hundreds of dead, bodiless voices. Taunting him; mocking him.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the look in hers, as she held her hand out, silently asking, pleading for something that was… _Impossible._ Something that could never happen. No matter what… _No._

It couldn’t.

She had stood there, watching him, that silent request visible in her entire being… Until Han Solo’s ship had drifted away in the wind, and the gap of thin air and nothingness had separated them once again. Once again, she was gone.

Gone; the constant voice and presence of her fallen silent. Once more escaping, slipping through his fingers as he least expected it. As if it had all been for nothing. _Silent. Gone._

He almost laughed.

“Master Ren.”

A deep male voice. Calm, steady, void of any trace of emotion. A voice, and a person, that he knew so well. Just like he did every other being currently present in the chamber.

Slowly, he turned away from the window -- it was one of the few rooms in the fortress that actually had windows; this one overlooking a landscape of winding mountain ridges and rocks, scattered beneath an indigo sky.

“Speak, Vorak,” he said, plainly addressing the tall, dark-clad figure standing closest to him. There were other Knights in the room, almost all of them assembled at this hour. Most of them stood closer to the walls, their forms partially obscured by shadow.

Vorak Ren spoke again at Kylo’s request; speaking through the visor of the mask he wore.

“Things will have to change,” the Knight said slowly. 

Another person stepped out from the shadows, the only sound to reveal his movement the whisper of a cloak against the floor. This man stood at a lesser height, although he was broad and muscular. At his sides hung the twin sabers that were the significates for him, and his sister -- that made them both so deadly in battle.

They stood there, watching him, their Master and commander. There were others of them, watching still from the shadows, but no one spoke a word. They sensed each other; their most important feelings and thoughts, a stream of life and power and darkness that connected them through the silence. Across the galaxy, as well as when they simply stood together like this. Through life and death; by the power of fates and oaths sworn. Across countless battlefields, with blood and darkness and the screams of the dying. They had stood together. They knew each other, like brothers and sisters.

And they all served the same cause, the same Leader.

And things would have to change. Soon, everything would come crashing down.

Because _he_ had allowed her to escape under his command yet again; a threat, an enemy possessing fatal, crucial information. Because of his foolishness; his weakness. 

All gone now. And he would take the responsibility for it. He certainly would.

Although his failure reached far deeper than that.

“Skywalker must be found,” the second Knight -- Izhel -- said. “And he must be eliminated. There is no other way.”

A female Knight, who’d been standing at the doorway across the room, flicking her gleaming lightsaber handle from one gloved hand to the other, all the while looking like she was prepared to ignite into a furious, deadly fire by the slightest provocation, stepped forward. It was hardly an exaggerated description of her appearance. Hara Ren had always been that way; a white-hot, blazing temper, combined with power and deadly skill in battle.

Standing now next to Izhel and Vorak, she was sizzling with that dark energy, palpable to everyone else in the room -- so very different from the males, who stood silent and still as statues.

“I shall be the one to do it,” said Hara. “Master, I shall hunt down Skywalker.”

Still Kylo didn’t say a word. He watched them -- his Knights, his order -- and felt his own emotions hardening to stone. Something cold and unfeeling. Anything but having to actually _feel_ those things, those emotions that still seemed like strangers to him; shattering and suffocating.

_Failure._

Hunting down Skywalker would probably mean hunting _her_ too -- there could be no other way. It had to have become like this. And as to what would happen once they’d tracked down Rey and his old master… 

He didn’t know. He didn’t want to consider it.

He walked to the center of the large chamber, halting between the three Knights who’d addressed him, and the rest of them, standing in the shadows. 

She had believed in him. Believed, that he could be someone else. Something more. He did not believe in himself anymore.

“We shall hunt Skywalker,” he said slowly, calm authority and confidence in his words. “We shall bring the Jedi before our Leader. And then we will end this.”

Calmly, he eyed each of them in turn. Of those present in the room, he was the only one unmasked. All of them wore black clothes fit for battle. 

“You will get to face him, Hara,” he said. “Vorak; you will lead the mission once it is all prepared. Bring whom you will need. Hara, Izha, Nossk --“

He inclined his head vaguely in the direction of two of the other Knights present. Nossk Ren, like Hara, was fuming with energy. A strange determination. Perhaps it was also an eagerness -- to finally get to finish off what they had been working towards for so long. 

Everything would change.

_Everything has already changed for you_ , a voice whispered in his mind. _Do you really think you’re still the same person? Still eager to achieve those same, desperate things? What a half-hearted vengeance…_

He clenched his jaw, trying to shake off those thoughts, that voice -- to bury it deep down where he would never have to listen to it again.

He _couldn’t_ allow himself to waver from the path that was his destiny; the path Snoke had showed him. Not now. It was who he was, the person he had become. It couldn’t change now. 

It was too late to change anything now.

Wasn’t it?

“We will not fail, Master Ren,” Vorak said, inclining his head. 

_Not as I did_ , he thought, watching the other Knight. _Not as I still might, if I can’t control my weak and traitorous soul. If I listen too much to what is in my mind._

“Our tribute to darkness,” Hara whispered, her voice echoing through the chamber, reaching out to all of them. “Our song to the night.”

An oath. An ode. To the darkness as ancient and infinite as time. To all the things that crave the shadows. A song to the night. 

It was their call. Their destiny. Their song.

_Vorak. Hara. Nossk. Ares. Izha. Izhel. Nero. Cinna._

He looked at the masked faces of them all, sensing their presence, the tether that bound them. A different kind of bond that could not be compared, that demanded no secrets.

That was how it ought to be. He wondered how many more secrets he would have to keep from them -- how many thoughts and emotions kept strictly private. They were things that could never be shared, never be faced by anyone but himself.

He also knew exactly how unlikely that was. But nothing would keep him from trying.

The Knights of Ren. The Master of the Knights.

They were an order of warriors. All of them originated from such different places and pasts, different lives. Now bound together, by oaths of endless depths -- by pain and hopelessness and suffering. 

Through the dark side. 

All of them kept together by a promise.

He felt rather than heard it when the Knights left the chamber. He had returned to the windows, gazing out without seeing. He knew, eventually, that he was alone.

Alone. Everything else gone silent. Or just gone.

She was not gone. He could still sense her. He had thought there were so few things he was truly sure of -- but this was one. A soft glow, vague but unfaltering. A pinprick of light in the darkness. Her.

Her presence, which had affected him in a way so that the aftermath of it still sang deep down to his bones. There was no turning back now.

As though some part of her had been left behind -- a tether that connected them, bound them across unlimited distances. Something that had somehow existed, as he’d come to realize, ever since they’d first met. Maybe earlier than that. They had both felt it then. And now it had grown so much more powerful.

He knew it was her, that light. He could sense it, as a fundamental thing, like the Force itself. She should be able to sense his presence in the same way -- although maybe she was already now unconsciously denying, forcing herself into thinking that the tether, the bond, was something else. Something less dark and fatal, something less permanent. Maybe she wouldn’t even know, wouldn’t _realize_ …

He felt his breaths come in uneven, ragged gasps as a realization dawned. Would he ever again be alone? 

Then he thought about the absence of that softly glowing light, and felt as though a gaping, infinite abyss had opened within him. He clenched his hands, tasting blood in his mouth. 

_Such weakness_ , a part of his mind told him. The other part of him felt simply hopelessness, a despair caused by that abyss.

And he knew that a part of him was ruined; damaged for good. That nothing would ever be allowed to return to what it had been. 

He had stopped halfway -- unable to continue and go forward; unable to turn around and go back the ways he’d come.

Always had he sensed the yearning towards more, the feeling that none of it was enough. Alone, even when surrounded by beings. Even among the brightest souls, he had stood in darkness. The ways of the Jedi had not been enough. He had wanted something _more_ , something greater. Something that was beyond himself.

In the beginning, he had done many things in blind rage. It had been a blur of darkness and new power, of screams and shadows and blood. He had felt invincible. Victorious.

They would look at him -- all of them, the weaker ones -- and see him for what he truly was. Then they would realize the true extent of his powers -- all the things he was capable of, simply because he dared to attempt it. 

_Failure_. Those damned whispers that wouldn’t be silenced.

_Hell_. She was slowly tearing apart everything he’d managed to become, everything he’d believed in. He didn’t even think she was aware of it.

Blood was slowly streaming from where he’d torn his lip, down his chin. A drop fell onto the windowsill, dark in the eerie blue light.

Did Snoke know? he wondered, bitterly. Had his Master realized what he’d done to his apprentice by allowing him to keep her alive? Had it been able to change anything at all? Maybe the Supreme Leader already knew everything, even more than he did himself. The thought of his Master knowing about the connection filled him with something like nauseating dread --

But another part of him felt only bleakness. Indifference. As if nothing seemed to truly matter anymore.

She had drifted away from him in the wind. As a deep rift had once opened in the earth and separated them. She had slipped through his fingers twice now -- apparently he was truly unable to hold her.

But then, he doubted anyone could hold her against her will.

No matter what he’d tried, half-heartedly, to convince himself of, he had _wanted_ to follow her.

He had wanted to take her hand.

He had wanted to come with her, and leave everything else behind.

To, in that moment, give in to the call from the light. The light that shone from her very person, treacherous and beautiful. The thing that had made him expose himself to her, open up for the stream of thoughts and feelings that had been kept buried. It had happened in the hall of the Knights, where the words had burst from his mouth, unstoppably, in a sudden moment of weakness and vulnerability.

He had chosen the ways Snoke had taught him. He had followed the promise of power and greatness; the promise of endless access to the Force. The dark things, too; the things that were hidden in the shadows, just waiting for their awakening.

She had been alone on that desert planet -- poor, friendless, without any family. No one to tell her and assure her of where she belonged. And even living such a life in loneliness, she had kept a light and a determination inside her that could not be extinguished. A hope, or simply a knowledge that it was all worth something. A realization of what was beautiful. That life was a precious thing, something to be taken care of.

At first, he’d found the thought unbelievable, impossible. In those ways, he had been her total opposite.

She was the one who had pushed to every wall he had built around himself, and she had done it simply by touching his mind. He had tried to read her mind for information, and she had pushed back. Seen him and his thoughts, for once momentarily unguarded. She had been the eye opener that had forced him to acknowledge things he’d so desperately tried to conceal for himself.

In one way or another.

_I will see you again, bright one_ , he thought, as he let his gaze wander up among the stars appearing in the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we reached the end of what could be called the first act of this story...   
> Thank you so much to all of you who have been leaving kudos or comments, or just been reading along. To know that other people appreciate this story makes me more happy than I can describe...
> 
> I hope you will continue to read along as the story goes on for our dear characters! I can promise that there will be lots of unexpected adventures happening in the near future... As well as the introduction of some new characters.
> 
> Thank you again, and may the Force be with you, always. <3


	15. The Darkest Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moonlight might eventually be triumphed by dawn's fiercest fire...

At first, Rey had felt slightly surprised by the fact that the system they had arrived at in the _Falcon_ didn’t appear the least like the Ileenium system; the star system where the former Resistance base had been located. But then, she quickly corrected her thinking. She might have been taken as a captive before she could get much of an impression of how the battle was going for the freedom fighters, but she’d known enough.

As Finn soon explained to her, General Organa had succeeded in evacuating the majority of the Resistance, and then almost immediately set up their new main base in this faraway star system. There had been nearly no casualties -- in that sense, the turnout of the ‘battle’ had seemed no less than a miracle.

But they wouldn’t risk another attack from the First Order too soon. Especially not in a moment where they would have been left scattered and vulnerable, with no safe haven to retreat to and gather their strength. No matter their fortune, or the First Order’s questionable intentions, the Resistance would not have been strong enough to withstand another attack of the kind.

The first one had come suddenly, but had not been nearly as effective as they might have feared. The First Order’s troopers had been enough to drive them back, but apparently, not enough to defeat them. Truly, it had seemed that it had not even been their intention -- it was as though they had wanted to take control of the base, but not waste any time hunting down and killing everyone within it. Maybe it had simply been badly planned and unauthorized… But Rey thought she knew better.

They had simply taken Rey, and then disappeared into thin air. Maybe to wait for another time, another battle… a day when they would strike against the Resistance once and for all, with thrice the forces, which would unavoidably lead to the annihilation of the rebellion. It was a fact to be accepted, as it was now.

But, for the time being, they would have to be able to find the Resistance first.

The new base was located on the planet Dantooine. 

“It’s a minor planet, in a bleak starsystem placed in the middle of nowhere,” General Organa had said. “It should be as safe for us as anywhere.”

The moment they landed in one of the Resistance’s new hangars, Rey had received a warm welcome that had been equal parts emotional and slightly overwhelming. 

Leia Organa had been there at the front, a smile and a look of deepest relief on her face.

“I am so sorry for what you’ve had to go through,” the general had said. And a darker glint had shown in her dark eyes, before her expression changed and became warmer. “And so relieved and grateful to see you back with us safely. Now, I think, we should all feel more hopeful for the future.”

At first, however, she had taken Rey in for a warm hug, which had caused the latter to feel a bit startled, and also pleasantly surprised. But then she was painfully reminded of the other time she had embraced the other woman, the very first time she’d met her. Just after she’d barely escaped a battle. 

Just after she’d barely escaped Leia’s son.

Except this time, despite everything, it hadn’t felt as much like escaping as it had felt like she was leaving another part of herself -- new, strange and unwelcome -- behind. As she’d left him behind. 

She had tried not to think of it. But it wouldn’t leave her mind; wouldn’t leave her be.

She kept trying.

It had been difficult for Rey to fathom the extends of the effort they had put into saving her. All the X-wing pilots who had thrown themselves into battle, just to give her the slightest chance of escaping. It had been an enormous hazard, a game of chance, for all of them. Even if they’d made it.

Some of the pilots in fly suits had immediately surrounded her, assuring her that the general had thought her adequately important, and therefore it had been absolutely worth the risk. She didn’t even know half of their names. 

She wondered how much they knew -- or thought they knew -- about her. How people would talk.

Chewbacca had been standing next to Leia, giving Rey a big, warm and fuzzy hug while growling compassionately in his own language. She had smiled of the Wookiee’s excitement.

“It’s good to see you too, Chewbacca,” she’d said.

BB-8 had been there too, beeping away happily, and even C-3PO, the golden protocol droid.

Stars, she hadn’t even thought she _knew_ the protocol droid that well. But then, maybe that was just how he behaved around everybody.

“Miss Rey! I cannot _tell_ you how good it is to have you back in good health. BB-8, my dear companion, has not spoken a word that did not express concern for your well-being!”

The droid had carefully placed a golden hand on top of BB-8.

“Oh, and as you see; my red arm has finally been properly replaced.”

Luke had greeted her as the last. Rey had stood calmly facing her master, and no words had been passed between them. But in his eyes, she had seen warmth, relief. And also, unmistakably, pride. He seemed to be proud of her -- even though, in that moment, she couldn’t seem to figure out why he would have even the slightest to be proud of. 

She had failed them, she then remembered with a sharp feeling of shame; she had opposed his orders, acted recklessly out of some foolish instinct.

Finn had then led her to a room where she could rest, and she felt immediately grateful for a chance to lie down, to be alone… Already she felt herself becoming exhausted by the people, the change of scenery, the energy… Which should have been strange. She had just been locked away, alone for long periods of time; away from the light, and away from these people that she cared about. People that she’d _missed_. Yet now she wanted nothing more than to be free of it. The people. The light. All those… _presences_. 

Seeing Finn again had been the best moment for Rey. To see that he was alive and well, and now completely recovered from the wounds he had suffered from since the battle at Starkiller Base. He had hugged her too, closely, and whispered down into her hair.

“Don’t ever do that to me again. I’ve been so worried… Worried what he might have done to you… Promise you won’t let that happen again.”

Rey had wanted to tell him that she was fine, that none of this would ever have happened if she were to decide. Instead, she had remained quiet, because she understood him all too well. She had been worried, too.

Then she had finally been left utterly alone. She had fallen down onto the bed in her sparse room, gazing up at the low ceilings, thinking that this room wasn’t even that different from her dark cell in the Vennarn fortress. 

Then she’d closed her eyes, and had not been surprised that the first thing she saw was that scene, that fleeting moment. Him, standing out on the shuttle ramp. Her own hand reaching out. 

She tried to shove the memory, the thought of him to the very back of her consciousness; somewhere it wouldn’t have to bother her. Somewhere she might eventually be allowed to _forget_ … Even if she realized it was probably impossible. It was just a feeling.

She thought she almost succeeded. She stared up at the ceiling one moment, then shut her eyes tightly in the next, trying the best she could to think of anything else -- then nothing at all. 

In the end, all she felt was a subtle glow. A soft and distant light; like moonbeams in the very back of her consciousness. 

And moonlight could eventually be triumphed by dawn’s fiercest fire.

____________________________________________

Rey slept, and rested, and ended up leaving her room feeling overall much better. When she’d eventually fallen asleep, she had been surprised by what a calm and dreamless sleep it had been. As if, just for a while, the other presences and thoughts in her mind had agreed to silence. To give her rest.

Now, with a rare lightness in her steps, she decided to go looking for Finn. She didn’t have to search many of the simple, makeshift corridors until she found him walking towards her.

“Alright?” he said as a greeting. She nodded.

She desperately wanted to avoid the subject of her capture -- at least for now. Even if she knew it couldn’t be forever. 

As they began walking in a casual pace, she asked him about the Resistance -- about the full outcome of the attack, about the evacuation and moving all those people to Dantooine. To her relief, he seemed to understand her wishes and quickly began talking in a lighter tone. But beneath it, she also sensed his growing curiosity and question. 

“General Organa has been great. I mean, she always is,” he said, “but during that assault, I don’t think she hesitated for a second. The moment we got onto those transports -- they had practically room for all of us -- they ordered us into hyperspace and sent us rendezvous coordinates from the command ship. We arrived there, waited for maybe a couple of hours or so, then received new coordinates leading us here. The command had already arrived here at Dantooine and begun setting up the base at that point.”

He gestured with his arms to indicate their surroundings. “I think most of this base is remnants of another, used many years ago before it was abandoned. That’s why there’s so much of it. At least we didn’t need to build someplace new entirely -- only do a serious amount of maintenance.”

Rey looked at the surroundings and nodded slowly. He was speaking about it all as though she’d simply been away on some travel, as if she hadn’t been taken away from them against her will. Only eventually did she realize that they had come to a halt in one of the corridors. They were standing at a door.

“So --“ Finn began, distractedly biting his lip. “They wanted to meet with you. I was to take you to them. It’s right through here.”

She stood and watched the door slide open to reveal a large, open room -- then they crossed the threshold together and entered.

They were standing in one of the old control rooms in the center of the base. The room was rectangular with bare white walls, one of them made of transparent glass that showed a view of sand and rocks outside, the landscape frequently patterned with dry plants and bushes. Several panels and consoles lined the other walls, many of them screens that showed different maps and drawings.

They were only few people present in room. Apart from Finn and herself, she saw Luke and Leia standing at the large window. Two admirals also stood in a corner, silently watching her as she stepped toward the center.

Might as well get this over with. She knew that this would have had to come at some point.

The general looked up at her and smiled.

Leia said, “I’m sorry to call on you at this early time. I know you’ve only just returned, and I wanted to give you some more time to recover.”

The general walked closer, and Rey nodded slowly, preparing herself.

“None of us can know what things you have been forced to go through,” the other woman said. “But this is a desperate time for the Resistance -- if we want to survive. If we want to remain. Perhaps our most desperate hour. And we need to know as much as even possible about the enemy we’re up against. Any information about the First Order -- anything at all -- would be of much value to us.”

The older woman’s strong gaze held Rey’s. In Leia’s eyes, she thought she recognized a spark; a glowing ember of determination and strength. In this case, it was also hope.

And so Rey told them. She told them about the main fortress’ location on the planet Vennarn, and she told of all the other locations; fortresses, planets, systems of the First Order she had heard mentioned. In her mind, she had kept a list of all those things -- and now she had found their use. She tried to describe the fortress the best she could -- whatever she had seen of the ships in the hangars, the amount of troopers and officers in the fortress. 

As she spoke, it was almost as though she could hear his soft voice inside her head, telling her all those things. Talking about everything, or nothing real at all… Eventually, she realized that the words she heard privately in her mind were things she’d never heard him say aloud, but it nevertheless sounded like his voice.

The three of them; Luke, Leia and Finn, stood silent and listened to her, only breaking in from time to time to ask her questions. At one moment, she caught the siblings passing a dark glance between one another.

“You shall know, Rey, that I’m very grateful for this information,” Leia said, once Rey had finished speaking. 

“By what you are telling,” the general continued, her eyes meeting all those present in the room after turn, “it seems that the First Order are working hard on strengthening their forces. As they build fortresses and bases spread across the galaxy, they get still more systems under their rule -- whether by cooperation or force.”

“They are expanding their armies…” one of the admirals present, who had until now chosen to remain silent, said. “All of this could be seen as a way of making themselves more visible to the general population. To, if need be, threaten the remaining systems and make them obey to their will, simply by the strength of their numbers.”

“And many systems will follow their cause willingly,” Leia said thoughtfully. “They won’t put up a fight if they have more to gain by cooperating peacefully.”

The general clenched her jaw, the expression in her dark eyes hardening.

“The Starkiller Base was a precious and important weapon to the Order, as the threat of being exploded into small pieces usually is enough to make most star systems surrender. Although they don’t have their superweapon to use as a threat, they don’t have the New Republic standing in their way either. When their forces will attack a planet or system, the people of that world will only have whatever protection they keep for themselves to rely on. There is no greater authority, no higher standing force to aid them…”

Finn took a step forward and broke in.

“But what can _we_ do then?” he said. “The Resistance is not powerful enough to help those systems. And if we’re the only thing that stands between… Why are there no more people to join us? They must see that we have to take a stand now -- before it’s too late.”

Rey watched her friend curiously. He looked… _different_ from when they’d first met. Already changed in so many ways. He seemed older, she thought. Stronger, independent.

“But people are frightened,” the general said. “Many will remember the dark days of the Empire, and they will see what is happening now. They will prefer to remain quiet and as unreachable as possible; to avoid the First Order’s attention for as long as possible, rather than face the threat here and now.”

“The First Order will continue to use the Empire as an example,” said Rey. “They want to recreate what they consider to be the power and glory of the fallen Empire.”

She cleared her throat, then added in a soft, calm voice, “And they _will_ make the remaining systems bow to them. Those who fight against them will eliminated, or broken.”

Finn looked at her, concern and distress on his face. “Rey -- did they do anything to you? Did anything happen? Did he hurt you?”

She thought she heard a tremble in his voice, part from worry and part from anger. 

She sighed faintly. How could she ever talk to her friend about everything that had truly happened? So many things already seemed to have come between them; all the differences that seemed to grow more accentuated every day.

_He will never understand you_ , a malicious voice whispered inside her head. _He will never understand what it is like to have those powers. He will never be like you…_

_We who have those powers… We often stand left, arisen above the fallen._

“I’m fine,” she said calmly, with assurance. “I _was_ fine. I learned things, terrible things, about the First Order… But -- they didn’t hurt me.”

She swallowed as she remembered the dimly lit room where two minds had fought, battled, blurred strangely and inexplicably together. She thought of the strange dreams and visions she’d suffered from during her time in the fortress.

Then she thought about the hall of the Knights; about the mask, and the banner, and a young man, showing a new, unexpected vulnerability that had been hidden away, buried beneath darkness and hatred for so long. Almost forgotten. 

Luke was watching her calmly, blue eyes asking a silent question.

“You may leave,” Leia told the two admirals, and they silently exited the room. Finn stood next to her, apparently unsure of whether to leave or stay. Rey smiled at him briefly, encouraging him to stay along with her.

General Organa had turned away, gazing over the landscape outside the window, and up towards the sky that was beginning to turn a dark indigo.

Then the other woman began speaking, softly, almost as if it was only for herself to hear.

“I always had hope. I always _will_ have hope. Hope, that things will get better. That no darkness lasts forever. Hope, that even when things seem the darkest and grimmest, there is something to be done.”

Leia’s voice sank even further, and Rey thought the general must now be speaking to someone, or something, else entirely, something beyond this room and its inhabitants.

“I always had hope that he would come back one day,” she whispered, “and everything would be forgiven. Not only his sins, but mine too…”

Rey silently watched the other woman’s profile. There was no mistaking about whom the general was speaking.

“My mistake,” Leia said. “I should have foreseen the darkness in my son, should have acted upon it sooner. I should have saved him.”

“Leia…” Luke began.

“Now our strength is failing, compared to them,” the general said, steel in her voice. Her dark, familiar eyes were grim. “We know only parts of the First Order’s strength. We know only little of all the terrible things they have done. And my son has great part in all of it.”

Leia, the fierce and fiery soul; the princess of a fallen planet; the senator and the general, suddenly raised her gaze, looking directly at Rey, as if she was in that moment speaking only to her.

“Will our frail hopes ever be enough?” the other woman said, a rare tone of bitterness in her voice. “I have tried, and contemplated, and wondered if the universe was ever going to grant me my most desperate wish. Wondered, if the times when we could rely on such hopes are far gone. Maybe we’re all going down a darker path; forced by our fates to grow colder and more steel-hearted. Maybe that has always been the only possible way of things. What if, during all these years, I have been showing not determination, but simple naivety?”

“Leia,” Luke suddenly said, the tone in his voice one of such unexpected desperation that it startled Rey in surprise, as if he was begging his twin sister to see; to listen. “Leia, I’m sorry. So, so sorry. And I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to forgive me… I failed. I left in shame, for years unable to face a galaxy of taunt and humiliation. I abandoned the only family I had left. 

“I saw the darkness in your son, but I never put enough weight to it. I never payed enough attention to what I sensed existed, never tried to know it better.

“It could have saved him. It might have. I wasn’t strong enough. We were blind, and afraid, and in the end, we lost him because of that fear. Because of that blindness.”

“Brother… Dear brother, don’t speak like that,” Leia whispered.

Rey was silent, unsure of what to do or how to react on such words. Finn looked shocked, and uncomfortable, as if he felt awkward being here, hearing his general speak like this.

“You didn’t decide my son’s fate,” Leia said, quietly, to Luke. “You were his master, his teacher, but you could not have foreseen the strength of our new enemy. Never could we have foreseen the influence Snoke would have on Ben. 

“But I was his mother. Han… We were his _parents_. And we couldn’t protect him. I should have tried better…”

Her voice sounded bitter. “We got caught up in our own troubles, our own drama. For years, I put the course of the galaxy and the New Republic above everything else; above my family. Work. _Politics_. As if any of it could make a greater difference…”

“You and I, of all people, should know that few are ever entirely lost,” Luke said sharply, a strange glint in his bright blue eyes. “I believe it is few souls who do not maintain at least a bit of light in them when they turn to the dark side. A hope. And those people can change, they can be _brought_ back, by the right means.”

Rey watched her master as he walked closer to his sister, his hands resting on Leia’s shoulders, that blue gaze open and earnest.

“It won’t do us any good to talk about all the things we could have done,” he said, softly, entreatingly. “It’s too late now. What’s done is done. What we can do, is think about how we are going to act in the future.”

“He is right,” Rey suddenly said. Though her voice was quiet, calm, all three of them immediately turned their heads to look at her. Well, she had almost surprised herself by speaking.

“Complaining about the past won’t do us any good,” she said, forcing a calm strength into her voice.

“What has already happened is too late to change,” she said, her voice already growing more powerful. She was speaking with an authority, a certainty. “But still, we have hope. And we should never give up on it.

“I believe that there is light to be found, even in the darkest places. Beauty exists even in the dimmest and most lifeless corners of the galaxy. I know there is still light in your son.”

She was now looking directly at Leia, a pair of dark eyes meeting another. Different emotions had risen within her. Memories, whispers of the past, surfaced in her mind as she spoke, and they only made her more certain that what she said was the truth. 

“I have looked into his mind,” she continued. “It is a dark place, and one to easily get lost in, which I believe he himself does more than anyone.”

In the corner of her vision, she sensed Luke watching her, contemplatively, with curiosity or maybe something like awe -- she couldn’t tell. She didn’t know if it was wrong of her to ask this of them -- his mother, his uncle; to ask of them something that might be taken as forgiveness for all the dark things he had done. For killing Han. 

But then, how could it ever be wrong to inspire hope in people?

She sensed that she had to say this out loud, to _tell_ them; Leia especially. Otherwise, she felt her heart might burst.

Finn had moved closer to her, his face expressing different emotions she couldn’t identify, looking like he wanted to speak, but he didn’t say a word.

“I have seen many of his fears. Because he _does_ fear,” she said. “He fears that he will never be strong enough… that he is too weak to complete what he believes is his destiny --“

She broke off her sentence, suddenly wary. Something deep within her recoiled at the thought of telling them too much that might say something about the connection that had been between them… The connection she had somehow felt since Starkiller, and definitely now after their time spent closely together.

_Because_ they had been so close during that time. Or maybe that had little to do with the matter at all…

_For I can still sense him_ , a part of her mind thought. The voice. The soft glow. The calming dark.

The conflict, and the doubt. 

And so she didn’t tell Luke or Leia about those things. She couldn’t -- not yet. Not when she yet knew so little of it herself. 

Maybe they would understand. But she thought Finn -- even though he was her dearest friend -- probably would find it difficult to. How could she expect him to, after all? 

She said, “His power comes from the anger and hatred inside him, which he has more than enough of. But it is the doubt in him that makes him vulnerable --“

Her voiced hitched as she watched General Organa.

“It is the light,” Rey finally whispered.

_Don’t you see?_ she couldn’t help but think. _The light has never left him completely. He knows that, and it tears him apart; makes him reckless, dangerous, unpredictable…_

She didn’t say those things out loud. Once again, she had a feeling of something trying to claw its way up her throat, and in that moment she hated it -- she didn’t want to appear weak…

In Leia’s eyes, she was surprised to find something like gratitude -- wonder, or maybe relief. Next to his sister, her master was looking at her, still with that inscrutable gaze. 

Rey looked to Finn lastly. He was standing close to her side, their shoulders almost touching, as if he was shielding her, guarding her. His eyes showed an odd protectiveness, but there was also warmth. And Rey thought then that in any situation imaginable, under any circumstances, her friend would always meet her with trust. No matter what.

________________________________________

Rey met her master in an abandoned corridor outside moments later.

She noticed Luke standing there, silently, as if he had been waiting for her. As if he wanted a chance to talk to her alone.

She halted and waited for him to speak. He let his hood fall down, and his blue gaze met Rey’s.

“I have been thinking about something,” he began, “that I think will be a necessity in any case. You and I will go -- leave this base, this system, and find someplace else, somewhere peaceful and void of the shadow of the First Order. Somewhere quiet; that will give us, I believe, some much needed time to think things through.”

Rey was surprised, but she knew it shouldn’t come as a surprise. After her failure -- after she had managed to get captured by Kylo Ren once again, Luke would want to finish her training somewhere safe. He’d probably want to keep an eye on her, she thought a bit grimly, to make sure she didn’t do something foolish or reckless…

Even though that thought was a strange one, she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of excitement by the thought of leaving…

If she would get the time to finish her training in the Force properly -- she would be a Jedi. 

_Jedi Knight._

“But won’t they need us?” she said simply, striving to appear calm and composed. “General Organa; the Resistance. If they should come into trouble, or become exposed…”

“For now, the crucial and most important matter at hand is for you to finish your training,” he said calmly. “Then, and only then, will you be truly able to fight this war.”

She nodded and looked down, despite herself feeling a bit defeated. He watched her silently for a moment, then said, in a firm voice: “Rey, we must both face the truth that the Jedi Order -- the way it was, the way I tried to rebuild it -- is gone. We are all that are left -- at least that we know of. The dark side is strong in the First Order; in the Supreme Leader. Hope lies upon us.”

He sighed, his facial expression softening. “You have been strong and brave -- and you have already faced and endured much more than we could have foreseen.”

Surprise must be written in her face from hearing those words; he had already, inexplicably, showed that he felt proud of her; in that command room with General Organa and Finn, the look in his eyes had been that of pride. But this… He flashed a smile, as if he could sense her confusion and question.

“Until you’ve completed your training,” he continued slowly, “we shall stay away from these headquarters of the Resistance. And if the right moment should ever come, it would be now. The First Order does not yet know about this base, and it should provide the Resistance with some desperately needed time to recover. At least, if they can manage to keep out of sight from the Order’s spies.”

He smiled, but it was a bitter smile. Rey thought she knew how her master was feeling. She felt the same. Though he was a Jedi Master, and though she might yet prove to be powerful, they were more alone than ever. So much hope and responsibility was on them. 

It made her feel oddly lonely and hopeless; the thought that even though she had now found her place -- the place where she belonged -- it was not necessarily an easy life to live. If there should ever be a chance to restore balance in the Force; the great balance of dark and light, it needed to happen soon -- before it might be forever too late.

No other could make it happen. They were the only ones left.

“Master…” she said slowly, after some time. “I want to ask you something -- about the way you were able to contact me, before the rescue… How did it work? Would I be able to contact you the same way? And why did it only work then -- and not earlier?”

He was silent for a moment before answering. “Between Jedi Masters and their padawans -- their apprentices -- if their bond through the Force is powerful enough, a communication like that, among other things, is possible. It can be very convenient in battle.”

“A bond…” she said quietly.

“There are many kinds of bonds -- or connections -- through the Force,” he said, watching her contemplatively. “The bond between a master and his apprentice is of a special nature in itself.”

She nodded slowly, keeping her face blank.

“You asked me why I could not reach out to you earlier,” said Luke. “Truly, I asked myself the same thing. I tried, more times than I can count during those first days after you were taken -- tried to reach out, even if just to sense your presence. It all seemed to make better sense when you told us the name of that planet… _Vennarn_. I remembered that name. In ancient Jedi scripts, it is described as one of the worlds that are, initially, strong in the dark side. It is said to be enveloped by mist -- a mysterious veil of unknown origin, that should apparently have Force obscuring powers.”

“To make it difficult for people outside to reach Force-sensitives trapped on the surface…” said Rey. Many things were starting to make sense now.

“And to make sure that those using and practicing the Force within the planet’s reach would remain hidden from outsiders,” he affirmed.

She thought of that strange, purple light, like a mist, that had seemed to exist in the planet’s atmosphere… Could it be something, so obviously visible to the naked eye? A veil, keeping her separated from the rest of the galaxy… She shuddered at the thought.

She spoke no more of the subject. Instead, she asked simply, “When will we go then?”

Luke looked relieved that she accepted it so easily.

“As soon as possible. We will fly alone, and pack as lightly as possible.”

“Will we go in the _Falcon_?” she asked hopefully.

He winced and looked slightly wary.

“I know you like to fly that thing. I have many memories with the _Falcon_ ; good and bad,” he said. “It’s the fastest ship in the fleet -- so Han would have said, anyway. That is, when it isn’t broken in some way or another that’ll endanger our lives…”

Rey laughed. “Trust me, Master. I believe that ship can still surprise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I allowed myself the liberty of making my First Order planet a bit more mysterious... Just a reminder that everything about Vennarn is made up.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! A bit serious and dark, I know... but then, it ends on a slightly lighter note. Luke and Rey adventures ahead! Tons of Jedi and Force stuff ahead!  
> Also, the upcoming chapter will be the start of a second ongoing storyline, which I'm also incredibly excited about.
> 
> Comments, or any feedback, would be much appreciated and valued. <3


	16. The People Who Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reformed stormtrooper and the best pilot in the Resistance are tasked with an unexpected assignment.

A horrendous noise filled Finn’s ears. It came from all around him; chatter, laughter and people moving around in a room that normally served as an assembly point. 

He thought he’d probably never get entirely used to the special atmosphere and feeling that was with the Resistance. It was in the way people talked and moved and worked; in the very air around them. Some of it, he thought, probably came from hope. 

When he had been a stormtrooper with simply a registration code for a name, in training to serve the First Order, nothing had been even close to this. Everything had seemed quieter, intimidating. Enormous. There was rarely a place or time for laughter and relaxed chatter. Such things did not exactly fit in with the First Order. 

They had been so many -- so many young people who had realized they would never know of their family, or their earlier life. Few even seemed to remember whatever early life they’d had. They remained, simply because they had nothing at all left for themselves. As they had grown up with it, it had sometimes showed almost as a sense of relief. A life of constantly repeated routines. A life in obedience -- in many ways, for many people, it appeared so much easier than individual thinking.

There was no past; only the future laid out for them by the First Order. Their comrades in arms would become the closest thing they had to a family, and that was all that mattered. The _cause_. 

In the end, there was no independence or identity -- only an army of faceless soldiers.

The Resistance fighters seemed to have a special nature, he though; a special talent of keeping their thoughts as bright as possible. Keeping their worries at bay. 

They were always hunted, always on the run. Some of them were maybe even caught or killed in this very moment, but still, they all _hoped_. No matter how dark the future seemed, that hope did not go away, wasn’t allowed to waver. He supposed he would yet have to learn that. 

Hope. Belief. Those were the things that made people fight.

Yes, the people of the Resistance all had something to fight for. Something that they believed to be of higher value and importance than anything else. That was what made them different. That was what made them _strong_ \-- what made them last. 

(Even though they were sadly low in numbers, compared to an enemy that was truly overshadowing and powerful, as anyone would realize lest they indeed intended to fool themselves.)

Finn had never had anything to fight for.

He knew how lucky he had been to come here. Still, he often wondered _why_ it had been him of all people. Why _he_ had gotten the chance of a different life when so many others had not. 

He could had been _braver_ than others, smarter or more determined than others -- maybe some would have thought that to be the reason. Although he believed it was something else entirely. 

For in that moment of chaos and panic, of fighting and escaping, it hadn’t felt like bravery. He sometimes thought it had simply been luck. Pure luck had given him a rare chance of escape, at a moment where he’d felt as if he could not remain with the First Order for one more day; to live by their wretched rules and watch other people die from it; until the very day when he himself would be killed by it. A life of blind obedience, suppression; until all individual thoughts had been snuffed out, like sparks dying in the cold vacuum of space. 

And death -- endless, cold, merciless slaughter.

He looked around from the free spot where he was sitting. The room was large and almost completely oval, a sharp white light from above lighting up the scenery. 

As most rooms in the Dantooine base, he thought it looked rather raw and empty, only filled with the things that were absolutely necessary. Make-shift arrangements, for a military movement. Still, he found it rather impressive the way the entire Resistance had been able to settle in over a modest few weeks. Or hardly even so. 

Most of the buildings and hangars had been standing already -- all of them old and abandoned, but with a bit of hard physical work from everybody, it didn’t take long to make the old quarters appear decently habitable. 

There were podiums placed in different height levels all around this room, starting with the highest ones protruding from the walls and then going all the way down in steps; almost like the old amphitheaters that could still be found on some of the Core Worlds -- he’d seen that once in a holo-vid. Made so that everyone would be able to see, and hopefully grasp some of whatever important information was being given.

The levels of podiums led down to the middle of the room: a platform on which a small table with a holo-projector stood.

Finn had been lucky to even get a free spot where he could stand -- sitting, at the moment, was out of the question. The room was crowded with all sorts of people; pilots on their off-hours, standing out among the rest with their bright orange fly suits, apparently not having bothered to change into something less flashy and battle-worn. Even during moments like this, when no grand meeting was taking place, the assembly chamber was crowded. Many used it simply as a lounge room, in addition to the larger mess hall. 

He soon noticed Poe, who was approaching him at his spot at the wall. The pilot looked up from the astromech droid he had been communicating with as it rolled along in his wake, and sent Finn a familiar crooked grin.

Poe’s attention was needed elsewhere as he was nearly run over by the astromech, who was insistent on delivering whatever message it had been assigned to send. The pilot delivered in return a teasingly snapping reply that Finn couldn’t catch, then dismissed the droid with a wave of a tan hand.

“What’s the rush?” he asked, as Poe came over to his free spot and leaned against the wall with the sigh of one carrying all the galaxy’s miseries on his shoulders. (More or less.)

Poe waved his hand again, this time as a gesture of startling indifference. “Nothing important. No one dead. I think. Yet. Half of my squadron has been assigned for a supply run. I can’t think of what we might’ve done to deserve punishment, so we must be simply running out…”

Finn pointedly raised a brow. “And yet Black Leader is staying behind? Not much like you.”

“Oh, no; _luckily_ , they didn’t have need for _me_ ,” said Poe, eyes wide and horrified. “Hell, can you imagine any sort of fun they’d get -- on a supply run? I know Snap is positively desperate for some real action to happen… Even Jess, I think, could use some death defying missions soon enough.”

The pilot sighed dramatically and brushed back his dark hair from his face.

“Can’t say I don’t see why. Still; it’ll only be well deserved if they happen to run into a couple more TIEs than they expected -- if anything for being such a constant pain in my ass.”

Real danger, Finn realized, were hardly something you needed to worry about on such simple flights as runs for supplies -- and so joking about it didn’t particularly feel like bringing down bad luck upon the pilots that had been sent away.

But he also knew that, for all of Poe’s restlessness, the pilot wouldn’t want any harm to overcome his squadron while on one of those rare missions that didn’t include him. They were his friends, his comrades in arms. And probably even a kind of family, with the strange bond that inevitably grew between people who were constantly fighting side by side, getting accustomed to watch out for each other. 

Poe now watched him, the stark white light glittering in his dark eyes. “What were you thinking about?” he said.

Finn answered truthfully. “A bit of… all things, really. Anything. Everything. The past…” And then, perhaps a bit more truthfully, “Rey. I was thinking about Rey.”

Who should have been standing right here, chattering with them. Who he would very much have liked to linger in this place, the place where he was, just a bit longer, so that he would fully have had time to cherish the extraordinary, exhilarating fact; that she was _alive_ , that she was safe. He still hadn’t quite made himself believe it. Even if she was alive, even if she was -- at least visibly -- well. Though he would now have no chance at all of knowing whether she was safe or not. He would deal with that worry later. 

“Ah, well,” Poe mused. “I wish I knew her better -- I mean; I know how much she means to you.” He frowned slightly. “Though -- so far she doesn’t seem to be capable of staying in the same place for very long. Makes making acquaintances rather difficult.”

Finn smiled. “I’ll look forward to the day when you two can really get to know each other.”

“From what you’ve told -- what I’ve seen -- she seems like some girl. Woman.”

Finn’s smile faded a bit as he gazed emptily ahead. “Indeed she is.”

She should have stayed, but then she and Luke Skywalker had gone away, rushing out on what undeniably seemed as a mysterious, mythical Jedi adventure to Finn. (Which should have made him excited. His friend. On an adventure to become a Jedi. How cool was that?) Or at least that was how he imagined her, going on secret missions in ancient, faraway places, and getting to use that power. The power that was still so unfathomable to him -- even if it was _who she was_. He would have to learn to face that. 

Then, damnably, he couldn’t help but remember that time, recently, just after she’d returned, with General Organa and Luke Skywalker, when he’d listened to her tell about her capture, when he’d witnessed a whole new side of his general and commander; one that he wasn’t even sure how to process. For that conversation had quickly turned into something entirely different and far more personal. Had turned into a conversation about her son. 

There were still some things about that matter specifically, that he found rather hard to fathom. 

Then to hear Rey practically _defend_ him; the man who’d killed Han Solo… It had sounded wrong in his ears. In a way that he couldn’t fully comprehend. 

But it was not his place to question her -- them -- like that, as he constantly reminded himself. This was probably another thing he would never get to fully understand… Mysterious Jedi business and all. 

He had stayed, that time, during that conversation. He had remained at her side, because he’d sensed _she_ wanted him there. He wouldn’t have wanted her to have to face such a thing alone. Even though, during it all, a thought had kept chanting over and over in his head.

_What am I doing here?_

Finn sighed. He _was_ happy -- happy for her to get her true chance to explore those abilities, explore all the things that must feel just as new and incredible to herself.

Nevertheless, he was also sad to see her leave. The recent events had only made him more nervous about his friend, and it was always difficult for him to see her go. Away where he couldn’t be at her side. 

He didn’t want to once again stand powerless behind, frustratingly out of reach, unable to help. _Never again_. Never again would he become defeated by a locked door separating them, when instead he might have saved her. 

Or at least stood by her side, so that she would have the chance to save herself.

_Never again._

He noticed the sudden silencing of voices before he saw the general herself stride through the chamber. 

Leia Organa cut straight through the chamber, people seeming to part around her as if they were the sea, keeping a respectful distance to her. The general’s only attention seemed to be at the point where she was headed.

Which, he soon realized, was the place where they were standing. As other people in the room realized the same, the scattered talk and chatter resumed.

He watched the general as she approached. As often before, he found himself surprised by her modest appearance; she looked, and was after all, a short woman of slight build -- appealing, even beautiful once, but now worn down by age and a hardworking life, dark hair now greying, though still arranged in continuously more elaborate ways. 

One might easily have taken her for that; a once-great person now having passed her time. Yet there was some strange kind of power, an indomitable energy radiating from her, that left no doubt of her strength. 

_Maybe it is the Force, too_ , he found himself thinking. Or maybe the radiance came from something else entirely -- a quiet, unbreakable strength.

“Dameron. Finn,” the general said as a way of greeting. Finn bowed his head, and Poe muttered, “General Organa.”

Her brilliant gaze shifted to the pilot. “I wanted to have a word with you, Dameron,” she said. “Now that you are here -- now that parts of your squadron has been assigned a voyage without your lead, I have another job for you.”

The pilot raised a brow. “And might that maybe be slightly non-coincidental?”

There was a glint in the general’s dark eyes. “It might. We always arrange matters so that they serve our cause in the best way possible. This assignment will be given to you -- if you are willing to take it, that is, after hearing the things it would involve.”

Finn quickly looked to Poe, and he felt the other’s attention spark. Missions weren’t often volunteered -- you got an assignment, and you fulfilled it. People followed the orders they received out of simple respect. It was how it had to be, in order for such a movement as the Resistance to be kept together. Unless it was something out of the ordinary.

Whatever it was, Finn had a feeling it would be something significantly more interesting than supply runs.

General Organa’s eyes met his own gaze. She said, “I suppose you’d better come along too.

Well, that was slightly unexpected. But pleasant, he supposed.

The two young men followed the general away from the bright assembly chamber, and out into the vast maze of corridors -- used in the past for some purpose or another, and most of them still in the process of being reconstructed and expanded for the Resistance’s use. As they passed a crossing passageway, a familiar orange and white droid came rolling up along with them, and the general didn’t make to dismiss it.

“The First Order has recently lost their most priced and crucial weapon,” said the general as they slowed down to a casual pace. “But their control over the galaxy and its general population is ever increasing. Since the destruction of the Senate, their domination has expanded with alarming speed. The question that remains is for how long we will be able to keep ourselves -- this base -- away from their watch. How long until they decide they cannot allow the modest threat of the Resistance to exist any longer.”

She paused and kept her gaze straight ahead, but neither Finn nor Poe made to speak. 

She continued, “The First Order is brutally moving forward, spreading death and fear wherever they go. People are frightened. Many people in the galaxy have left their homes trying to escape the Order’s invasion, as they move ahead with their troops and their fleet; something that people haven’t had to face since the days of the Empire.

“Hope,” she said, and looked them both into their eyes. “Such a simple thing, and yet it can turn all tides. _Everything_ can depend on such little things. I will not give up my hope, and neither will most of our fighters. Hope is what we exist with, and the force with which we will remain. We will keep that hope. And we will spread it to others. To the people. To those willing to watch, and to listen.”

They had come to a halt, all three persons and BB-8 standing in a side corridor mostly abandoned by other people. Leia Organa, a figure of lasting power and unwavering certainty, had turned around to face them directly as she spoke.

“We of the Resistance are in desperate need of people. It is no secret that we are sadly outnumbered compared to the First Order’s forces. What we need now,” she said, “is to show people that we are here. To show them that if they wish to live in freedom, if they wish to fight back, we are on their side. That if the people choose to fight, they will not fight alone.

“Dameron, I have tasked you with this mission as you are one of our best pilots; during your time with us, you have proved yourself loyal and dedicated to our cause. Along with those things, you have the qualities of a strong and compassionate leader. 

“On this mission, you will need all of those qualities. It will be a journey to some specially chosen systems across the galaxy; planets in a crucial position, and where we believe there will be people ready to listen. Who might be, if all fortune is with us, ready to join us and fight. You will travel in greatest secrecy and with the best safety we can provide, but if the Order gets to know of this mission -- too soon -- you will be exposed.”

Poe’s expression was unreadable. “It’s part of it, ma’am.”

“Hold on,” Finn blurted without thinking. “So he’s going to reveal his identity to the people of these planets? If that’s the whole point of it, then why even bother with secrecy? It’ll be like sending up a flare, letting the Order know his exact position!”

General Organa watched him, brows raised. “It’ll be like sending up a flare for the _entire_ galaxy to see. Yes, that’s the intention.”

“So it’s a suicide mission, then!”

“But, Finn,” Poe said, not a hint of concern in his voice. “The point is to keep this mission a secret to the First Order for as long as possible -- long enough for the mission itself to be initiated. Only _afterwards_ will it be dangerous.” He sounded almost thrilled by the thought. A bit too thrilled for Finn’s liking.

“We’re obviously counting on this not to become a suicide mission,” said the general; then added, more pointedly, “We wouldn’t want to lose our best pilot.”

“Of course not, ma’am. I’m sorry.”

Finn caught Poe’s eyes with a questioning look, but Poe just smiled vaguely and shook his head.

The general gave the pilot an assessing look. “Shall I take it you accept the assignment, Dameron?”

Poe’s face instantly seemed to brighten, an almost manic glint in his dark eyes. He straightened his stance -- which didn’t make him seem that much taller at all (though that had obviously been the intention) -- and sent the general another crooked smile.

“General Organa, I am deeply honoured by your trust in me. I will not fail you, and our hope. I’ll be ready to go as soon as possible, in accordance to your wishes.”

He paused for a moment and looked thoughtful.

“But if I may suggest -- wouldn’t it be best if I had someone with me on this journey? If I travelled with another person, we would be able to help each other in certain situations likely to come, possibly dangerous. Furthermore, I would be considerably more protected with another guarding my back.”

The general opened her mouth, but Finn broke in before she could answer. And if he had to be perfectly honest with himself, he probably spoke before he’d thought any of these things through.

“General, I’ll go with him.”

They both looked at him, silently waiting for him to continue. Even BB-8 turned their upper part around -- _all_ the way around for good measure -- to witness the scene.

Finn let go of all attempts of considering his words before he spoke them. “I need to _do_ something,” he said. “I can feel that. General, I want to be of help. I want to share this assignment with Poe.”

“But Finn, are you sure of this?” General Organa said, sounding vaguely concerned. As if she truly cared for him. “This mission is an extremely important one, and it could turn out to be dangerous. I want our fighters to know what they go into. I want you to, always, know the full extent of the risks.”

Finn remained unmoving, even though the restlessness was already settling in him. It hardly seemed to matter that this mission would most likely end in some catastrophe or another; or that it had all the qualities he would have thought fitting for a suicide mission. 

For wasn’t this exactly what he wanted? 

A reason to prove that his new loyalty was complete. A proof of his usefulness as a true fighter -- not just as a fugitive with some useful first-hand information of their enemy. 

He cleared his throat.

“With all due respect, ma’am, I think I would be the one most suited for this mission. I have lived under the control of the First Order most of my life. There are things I know about the First Order that a person like you, like anyone here, will never know. Things I’ve experienced for myself, on my own body.”

Poe broke in, “I agree with Finn. I want him to follow me. We would be strong together. Stronger. Also,” he sent Finn a quick glance, “the two of us have travelled together before. As a pair, we’ve already fought many a stormtrooper from the First Order. All things considered, I think we’re pretty good at surviving things -- together.”

General Organa looked from one young man to the other with a changing expression on her face, considering. At last, she nodded.

“You speak truths -- that I can’t deny. It would indeed be most helpful if we could make use of Finn’s past as a First Order stormtrooper. And I trust both of you to give anything you’ve got for this mission.”

“We will not fail you, General,” Poe said again, and she flashed a smile of relief, as though a certain weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

“And you know how much I appreciate your confidence. Now you must both follow me, for I have important information to give you and we don’t have much time. It is my wish that you prepare to leave the base as soon as possible.”

She turned around and began to walk away, and Finn hurried to follow her, his friend walking beside him. 

“So, we’ve fought ‘many a stormtrooper’ together?” he muttered with a sideways glance.

“But we have,” said Poe with a grin. “And we’ve flown together as well, though it didn’t turn out quite as successfully.”

Finn snorted, but he was starting to feel amusement. Poe grimaced slightly, and added, “I admit that previous line sounded better in my head.”

Finn rolled his eyes at his friend, but he couldn’t help but smile all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is, as always, much appreciated. :)


	17. Secrets of the Mist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Don't get too close, bright one..._
> 
> But how could it have been any different?

The _Falcon_ was continuously losing speed. Rey had moved them out of hyperspace, and now she checked the coordinates that Luke had given her very closely.

They sure were in the right place, after what she could see. They had gotten here in no considerable amount of time; the _Falcon_ still didn’t disappoint on that account. 

She looked right ahead towards the planet they were approaching. Its surface looked odd, closed off and hidden by a veil of mist, but beneath that, she could see that it was a planet with much vegetation. There wasn’t much to be found this part of the galaxy, not that would have been of interest to much people -- and certainly not that Rey knew of. But of course, she had many places yet to discover and learn about -- many of the galaxy’s secrets yet to unveil.

What stood out to her was the visible lack of civilization on the green planet. There sure was some life down there but she saw no sign of _people_ there; no artificial lights or settlements visible from here. In fact, the planet looked somehow abandoned; there was no other word for it. It looked like a world no outsider had come across, had even touched, for years and years.

“Master Luke, are you sure this is the right system?” she said, casually. 

She looked at Luke, who was sitting next to her, gazing out into the lingering darkness of space, his bright blue eyes glassy and faraway. He’d often looked like that, Rey thought, during the time she’d known him. Lost in memory or thought -- pondering, trying to solve problems and answer questions few other would have thought significant.

Surprisingly, he hadn’t minded being her co-pilot, helping her fly the _Millennium Falcon_ in Chewbacca’s absence. He didn’t seem to have any issues with the piloting, and she had admittedly been relieved. She always felt uncomfortable having to pilot the ship alone.

He met her gaze now with a light smile.

“It certainly is the right place. But I understand why you hold doubts. It doesn’t look like much from here.”

Rey carefully slowed down the ship even more as they approached the ground, wanting to land as smoothly as possible with her spared view of the surface and its terrain. They were not far above now, and she could see an endless ocean of dark trees, bending and shaping in odd forms. A dense forest with a dark undergrowth. 

She frowned slightly. It would be no easy landing.

The thick white fog soon rose up around the ship, veiling the Corellian freighter with its whorls and swirls. It was nearly impossible to see through.

“I wanted a place that was hidden, far away from any spying eyes,” Luke said calmly. “This was the first planet that came to my mind.”

Rey struggled with the landing. The fog created what seemed as an almost impenetrable hindrance, and she couldn’t see the ground clearly. She thought the dense growth of trees close to the surface must be barring their way, making their approach to the ground even more difficult. She heard the faint creeks and felt the trembles in the old freighter as they passed through such obstacles, still hidden beyond her sight -- but she closed her eyes briefly, and thought it was like she could _sense_ when something larger, like a branch from a tall tree, stood in their way, and was able to move carefully past it. 

A shudder went through the _Falcon_ as they finally hit ground, and the ship stood still. She exhaled loudly and felt her pulse calm. She had done it, after all.

“Well, you managed that far better than I would have done,” her master said with a light laugh. “Welcome to Dagobah.”

_______________________________________________

They walked down the ramp of the ship. Rey watched her surroundings closely, trying to take everything in and sense this new place, yet also with curiosity.

She had been lucky to land the _Falcon_ on solid ground. They were standing on what appeared to be some sort of island; a piece of muddy wet ground that just barely connected to the rest of the seemingly endless forest.

The forest -- she’d automatically thought of the dominating landscape as that. Though, specifically up close, it was not much like any other forest she had encountered.

They were surrounded by swamp; mud and grimy water so dark it was impossible to see just a little of what was hidden beneath the surface -- and more so with all the mist, covering for the natural light from above. 

The dark water made Rey feel oddly uncomfortable. She couldn’t tell what might be hiding down there, among the shadows -- and there was always something intimidating about the strange and shadowed. At least until you learned its true nature.

The dense forest really seemed to be endless -- at least from what she’d seen so far. Her gaze couldn’t reach in far between the crooked trees. The trees and other plants were some she had never seen before. But again, she hadn’t seen much at all besides sand and rocks and wrecks of starships. She clearly remembered her astonishment when she had been on Takodana -- the realization of how much different life could exist in the same galaxy; life in forms, colours and shapes as she had never seen it before. 

There were no other living creatures in the area as for what the eye could tell, but Rey clearly heard them. The sounds from smaller animals and beasts moving, slithering through the undergrowth; the distant roars and shrieks from creatures she couldn’t identify. 

The sounds seemed lonely, calling, in a way that filled her with something like wonder, rather than fear.

The white fog filled the air and swept around in soft swirls, making everything seem more strange and mysterious, even things such as the trees, the swamp and the ship. This whole place, the whole planet, seemed foreign, ethereal. 

“Master, have you been here before?” she called softly. “Do you know this place?”

Luke turned his head and met her gaze. He was standing just a few meters away from her, appearing perfectly confident and calm.  
“Yes, I do. This is where I once came, in search of my own Master. I know this place.”

Rey felt her curiosity spark. Questions began, as so often before, to rise up to the surface of her mind.

“Your Master…” she began slowly, all the things that made her wonder whirling in her mind. 

_He must have been a powerful Jedi…_

_Why did he live here, of all places? And how did you know where to look for him?_

_What is it about this place?_

There were so many stories, but she couldn’t yet fully recognize the myths and rumours from the real ones. She had never gotten much time to talk to Luke about it personally, not until now…

He came towards her, pulling his hood over his head.

“This is not the time, nor the right place for such talk,” he said calmly, before she could speak any more words. “We can’t stay here,” he said, gesturing to the exact spot where they’d landed. He glanced up towards a darkening sky.

“It could look like rain,” he mused, as though speaking to himself. Then, to her, he added, “Follow me this way -- I know a place where we might find shelter.”

“What about the ship?” said Rey, hesitant to leave the _Millennium Falcon_ behind completely unguarded.

“We can leave it here safely,” he said. “I doubt you will find it stolen when we return.”

Rey shrugged lightly, realizing of course that he was right -- there were no one else here. She looked over her shoulder one last time, then followed her master into the dim forest. 

The air felt heavy with moisture, and she could feel loose strands of her hair starting to frizz around her face. He was right; it did in fact look like it could start raining. 

They walked in silence for a while, and Rey got some more time to take everything in. She craned her neck, and looked up between the tall and narrow trees. She saw unknown creatures circling the air high above, making eerie calling noises to one another. 

Suddenly she felt a drop of something wet on her face. A raindrop. More and more drops fell in shorter intervals until it was actually raining. And quite a bit at that. Rey’s hair and clothes were soaked through within moments, sticking to her skin in a most uncomfortable way.

Even though… she still found herself awed by the actual rain.

It was hardly necessary to note that she hadn’t experienced much weather like this during her time on Jakku.

She looked ahead and saw that Luke had stopped. He was standing in a small clearing; a place where the trees were suddenly sparser and more separated, revealing a rare full view to the sky. Rey joined him hastily as the rain fell continuously more heavily, making the dark earth swampy and wet beneath her feet. 

Her master pointed towards something across the clearing.

“Over there. There is a place where we can hopefully stay warm and dry,” he said.

Rey followed his gaze and saw something peculiar looking. It looked like some sort of cave or hut built out of clay. It was clear that no one had taken this place into use for many years, but still it stood, almost untouched by the wild nature surrounding it, as though it had simply blended in, as a natural part of the clearing. 

The hut should provide excellent shelter from the weather, though Rey thought it did seem rather small…

Luke walked into the hut through an open entrance in the side, and he gestured towards her to make her follow.

“You might want to duck your head. It isn’t really built for people our size,” he said in a light tone.

She carefully walked inside and the suddenly dry air felt immediately relieving. She wanted to straighten her body, but soon realized that the roof was surprisingly low. If she stood up, she would knock her head against it.

Rey carefully moved towards what looked like it had been a fireplace in the other end of the single room. Before the fireplace stood two low stools, and she sat down on one of them. She brushed some stray hair away from her face with a light movement, drops of water running down her face like tears. Though the rain had made her feel cold and wet to her bones, she had also rather enjoyed the cooling and cleansing feeling of the water against her face. She felt clean all the way through; renewed.

Truthfully, to this point of their journey, she had not bothered her master with many questions. She had tried to calm her excitement, her anxiousness; tried to control her curious and questioning mind, knowing that Luke would tell her what she needed to know when the time was right.

“The person that used to live here… Was he very small?” Rey asked innocuously. 

Luke dragged the other stool towards him and sat down as well. He let his hood fall down, water dripping from his long cloak onto the floor, and smiled.

“So you might say. He was of a modest size, but certainly not to be underestimated because of it. My master was extremely powerful, one of the most legendary Jedi Masters of all time. The Force wasn’t just a weapon, a substance, something for him to use; it was his ally. He lived _in_ the Force, always in complete harmony with it, as its equal.”

He placed their sparse package of equipment and supplies on the ground between them. He pulled up the box of food they’d brought with them, and handed a couple of peculiar looking fruits to Rey. They’d had to bring with them only the most necessary things, so the food was rather simple and dull, made to last for as long as possible. 

She could definitely tell when she took a bite of one of the fruits -- they were dry as paper, and rather neutral in taste. But she didn’t mind it, as long as it gave her the energy she needed. She was, after all, accustomed to sustaining herself with little to practically no food a day in the extreme heat of Jakku… This seemed kind in comparison.

The thought of the planet where she grew up made Rey think of something.

“Master…” she said slowly. “You haven’t told me much about yourself. I don’t know anything about you, your past, besides what the stories tell.”

“I’m not sure there is much to tell -- certainly not from the time before I did my part in the civil war,” he said. “That was the first time I ever learned about the Force, and started to uncover the truths about my family.”

Luke moved on his stool to sit more comfortably, and he cleared his voice and met her gaze.

“I grew up on a desert planet, just like you,” he said. “An Outer Rim planet known as Tatooine -- terribly hot, terribly dry and also frequently home to some of the oddest types of people. Tatooine is good at giving the impression that you’re really trapped in the middle of nowhere -- as far from civilization as one can be. But I lived a peaceful life. I had a loving family. Those aren’t things that everyone can claim to have known of.”

“Did you ever know anything about your real parents?” asked Rey.

“I lived with the people I saw as my uncle and aunt -- and no, I didn’t know much. No one had really told me much about my real parents. The few stories I’d heard about my father… Most of them were just that. Stories. And few of them were true.”

He paused for a moment. His gaze was distant, as though focused on something faraway.

“There were things only few knew at the time, or even suspected. I discovered the truth about my father in the worst way possible -- and it was a cruel truth to live with. There was a time after that where I didn’t know how to accept the fact -- understand it, live with it. I didn’t know how to carry on…”

He fell suddenly silent. Rey looked out through the small openings in the walls that served as windows. 

The rain was still falling outside, but it had calmed to a quiet drizzle. Her travel clothes, recently given to her by the Resistance, were already drying in the comfortably dry air inside.

Her master suddenly looked at her with an inscrutable expression. His gaze was thoughtful, considering.

“Rey -- do you remember anything about your life before you came to Jakku? A glimpse, a sound; anything.”

“No, I don’t,” said Rey. “Nothing… clear. Of course I have tried to remember -- just the smallest bit… But I can’t. It’s just blurs and shadows -- that’s all.”

He nodded slowly, and she couldn’t tell if the look on his face was disappointment, or simply thoughtfulness. She still didn’t know how to feel about her lack of memory herself…

In the days after she had arrived on Ahch-To, Luke had made her meditate, as a way to see clearer, to sense everything clearer… And to try to open her mind, maybe to remember… But there had been nothing then, still nothing but the shadows.

_A barrier is cracking…_

A sight, an image from a dream, or a vision -- an island standing proudly, surrounded by ocean…

She shook her head, exasperatedly. None of it had yet led to anything that might show something useful. Trying to remember now would be futile.

“What happened to your uncle and aunt?” she asked.

Luke’s voice was neutral, composed. “They were killed. Murdered by the Empire. You could say that it wasn’t right, or just -- it wasn’t fair that kind, hardworking people like the two should pay with their lives,” he said. “But that is rarely how things work in war… It seems, often, that most of the people who die as the first are those blessed with an ordinary life. People who should have had a long life ahead of them. The good ones; the brave ones. The good people die, for they are usually also the first people to sacrifice themselves for others.”

_The good people die._ Rey unavoidably thought of Han Solo once again. No matter how she fought to keep the thoughts and the visions at bay, it seemed it couldn’t be avoided. The old pilot had fought in and survived countless battles. Cruel was fate, that had made him die like that. Betrayed. Murdered by someone close to him. His chest pierced by a flaming blade, falling from the bridge and down; into an eternal darkness yet untraveled.

And of course she couldn’t think of Han without immediately thinking about his son as well. 

That, too, seemed unavoidable. 

She saw his scarred face and his black hair and his deep bronze eyes. She saw him standing on the exposed platform hundreds of meters above the ground, the wind blowing around his tall figure. She remembered the look in his dark eyes. A gaze of fire and darkness and pain. And the suffocating doubt that was with him, always. All the conflicted emotions that were, in one moment, fully exposed for her to read, the moment after replaced by simple coldness. Deadness. 

Before they had drifted away.

_And the gap of air had separated them once again._

Kylo Ren. Ben Solo. A fallen person.

She hated him, despised him, feared him for all the terrible things he had done -- all the people he had somehow hurt, all the people he had killed. A part of her might. The part of her that still fought to find a place in this wild, vast new world, where there was light and darkness, where you had friends and enemies. 

But that wasn’t all of her. It _couldn’t_ be. It couldn’t be so simple…

She didn’t want it to be.

His actions made him a monster; soulless, barely human.

But she now knew that he was not soulless; if she could ever have doubted it, despite all the things he’d said and done ever since their first encounter… Or because of it. All of it. 

She knew that he was not without doubt or insecurity. He had showed some of his inner self to her, his thoughts and memories… She had felt the tether, that _connection_ with his mind, with him, and it had been dark, dizzying, shattering…

Soothing. Calm…

_Right_ , a soft voice whispered in her mind.

And she thought, _I am being torn apart._

Rey straightened, and took a deep breath. 

In that command room at the Dantooine base, she had wanted to give hope to Leia Organa. It was what they all wanted; what she thought they would all need now more than ever. And she had talked to the general as if there really was hope. For her. For them; the Resistance. The Jedi -- representatives of the light; remnants of an ancient belief that might not yet be truly gone…

Hope; even, perhaps, for Leia’s son.

A soulless monster never questioned its actions of violence and pain. A soulless monster didn’t give the appearance of breaking, slowly, apart; a little more with every sign of doubt, of guilt. A soulless monster wasn’t torn apart.

They sat in silence together, the master and the apprentice, the only sound the quiet drip-dripping of the rain outside. 

Until, suddenly, Luke spoke again.

“Rey… You shall know that I am very proud of what you’ve achieved.”

_Why?_ she immediately wanted to say. The feelings of shame instantly rose in her once more. What was there to be proud of? She had managed to get caught; that was the only thing she’d achieved so far. And she would barely have had a chance of escaping, if the right moment hadn’t occurred by chance…

“What you have gone through…” he continued, before she could say anything. “It’s more than any of us could have expected of you. Could have hoped.”

Those words managed to silence her momentarily.

He said, “You have only had a minimal amount of training in the Force. However, with that small amount of training you’ve accomplished incredibly much. Your control of the Force has somehow always been inside you, waiting for its awakening… And that awakening has happened.”

“It had no other choice,” she said, taken aback. “I was thrown into an awful lot of messy things. I had to defend myself somehow.”

“And by some miracle, you had the strength to do so,” Luke said with the beginnings of a smile. He was watching her intently, and she met his crystal bright gaze, still puzzled.

“You have proved that you were capable of escaping the First Order and the Supreme Leader, not just once but twice,” he said. “You resisted an invasion of your mind, and even had the power to fight back. You held on to the light even when things seemed darkest.”

Rey knew that he was right. She’d done those things, accomplished them, because she’d _had_ to. She couldn’t have allowed herself to lose that control… It was too rare; too fragile.

Even if she might have lost something else instead.

She said, “Master, what do you mean by telling me these things? I’m not sure I understand…”

Luke took a visible breath, a new glint in his blue eyes.

“What I’m trying to tell you…” he said. “I’m trying to tell you that I cannot teach you much more myself -- soon, the rest will be for yourself to discover. Your control of the Force is impressive, and worthy of a powerful Jedi.”

Rey couldn’t believe what she heard. “Do you mean…” _That I am a… Jedi?_

“Not quite yet,” he said. “But nearly. In a very short time, you will be ready.”

The thrill of excitement and pride filled her; it was as though something warm and light was inside her, making her feel a renewed energy, a renewed hope for the future. It made her forget for a moment whatever strange feeling had been with her for a while now… It made her forget the cold and damp clothes that stuck to her body. It allowed her to put aside for just one moment the situation they were all in, the despair and hopelessness abating… 

As long as there was hope.

“Luke…” she suddenly said. “Are there truly no other Jedi left?”

His expression went dark and he spoke with a sigh, “I tried the best I could to rebuild the Jedi Order; to return the power and glory of the Jedi to the galaxy. To protect the people; the light, and the balance.”

He looked away, eyes once again glassy and faraway.

“I didn’t succeed. The few people I managed to train in the ways of the Force are gone now. And the Jedi are once again nearly extinct.”

He didn’t have to say more, for they both knew what lay hidden in his words.

That the new generation of Jedi didn’t just vanish. They were murdered. Brutally and mercilessly. 

“That it, there is another,” he said, then paused briefly. “There has always been another.

“My sister too has the Force within her. However, she never became a Jedi. She never learned how to hone her abilities. She chose to live her life differently.”

Rey thought about the way she pictured Leia Organa. It was difficult for her to think of the Resistance general as a Jedi -- but not unlikely. Leia seemed alike her brother in some ways, in other ways not at all. Rey knew that the general was strong, and she didn’t doubt that Leia could have been powerful like Luke.

But Leia was a different kind of strong. She carried a strength that wasn’t exactly visible, but nevertheless not to be overseen or underestimated. She was a person who had slowly lost everything that makes life matter, but she would not stop because of that -- wouldn’t even waver. She had a mind sharp as a blade, and a will like iron; along with a spirit powerful and bright enough to inspire others. In those ways, she was the perfect leader.

“I couldn’t avoid listening to what you told my sister,” Luke suddenly said, after a moment of silence. “About your capture. About her son.” 

Rey stayed silent, waiting for her master to continue as her body suddenly, at once, seemed to remember that odd feeling from before, the strangeness. 

A feeling, lying like a shadow over her hope, her joy over Luke’s words before. As though some part of her felt at odds with _this_ \-- all of this. Being here. All of it. 

Some part of her felt as though it, perhaps, belonged someplace else entirely. Another truth.

“I listened to what you said…” Luke continued, as her heart clenched painfully in her chest. “And I felt… relieved.”

Her mind fell silent for a moment. “Relieved?” she asked quietly.

He watched her, calmly. “There are certain things you’ve somehow figured out. Understood. In ways that probably only you -- and him -- will ever be able to fully comprehend.”

A stream of images flew through Rey’s mind, so fast it seemed she could only manage to catch a quick glimpse of each of them. 

A tall person in black. A collision of red and blue light. A black mask. The look of sorrowful dark eyes. _Hopelessness_. Another mask, burned and damaged, lying on a dark table. Hands clad in black gloves, holding a tight grip around the edges of the same table, as if there was nothing else that could keep him from falling apart.

She took a shaking breath, and said, “I meant everything I told General Organa. You see… When I was being held in the fortress, no harm was done to me. Not in any physical way, at least. I also believe he -- Ren -- didn’t even know what to do with me himself… _Why_ I was there.

“Master, you knew him. You knew him the way he was before… Before everything went wrong. I think that in all the years that have passed since, he has tried desperately to eliminate everything that he was before. His previous self. He has driven himself forward on hate and anger. And he wants to be seen as the monster most think he is.”

She paused and looked outside, out into the soft night gradually falling over the clearing and the forest.

“But something had changed in him. I know it has,” she said, her voice falling to a whisper. “He is… different, when he is with me. He is more vulnerable. More human. And he hesitates. As if he’s starting to remember... who he was.”

The hollow feeling in her chest increased, mixed with something else.

Luke was watching her carefully, his expression inscrutable.

“I trust you, Rey,” he said, before she could say any more, to _explain_. “I sense that you have begun to see certain things -- more clearly than any of us have until now. I trust you,” he repeated, that blue gaze piercing. 

He continued, “If anyone should understand you, it would be me. Everyone used to believe that my father was gone. They told me Anakin Skywalker was dead. Those few who knew the truth told me he was lost. I was the only one who didn’t believe it. I thought there must still be some good inside him… I wanted to understand the nature of the man who had been my father.”

Luke’s voice softened, almost with something like resignation. 

“Don’t let go of your hope. I didn’t give up on my father. I didn’t want to give up on my nephew… Believe, Rey. For now, that may be all we can still do.”

Rey didn’t know what to say.

She wouldn’t _give up_. That wasn’t an option. And it was the only thing she knew.

But it wasn’t necessarily her own choice. It was the fact that she was stuck, caught in the maelstrom of the destinies that had been chosen for her, that had _chosen_ her. 

You couldn’t stop a freefall through thin air. Once she made her jump, there was only the ground to stop her far below.

Believe, Rey.

Stars, she wanted to _believe_.

He was one of the greatest threats to the galaxy; a powerful wielder of the dark side of the Force. 

Kylo Ren. The Knights of Ren.

If he continued as the Supreme Leader’s apprentice, exercising the tyranny of the First Order… Then what would she do? What would she _have_ to do?

_I don’t know what to do… I don’t know._

_Snoke._ The name surfaced in her mind all of a sudden, and she was filled with an unexpected surge of hatred towards that very being. 

The Supreme Leader of the First Order. The Master of Kylo Ren. He was the one who had started it all. Everything that had been done by the Order was done in his name.

As if Luke had sensed her thoughts, he said; “Kylo Ren is only the apprentice. It is Snoke who stood behind everything, from the very beginning. He is the master, the leader.”

“But _who_ is he?” she said, frowning. “Where does he come from?”

“Of his origins, we can only make guesses. For all that we know, he is an ancient being who has been hiding in the shadows, biding his time until he found a weakness in us to exploit. I’m not sure it even matters that much _who_ he is. The dark side will always find a way to disturb the balance. It will always find a new person, a new being, to materialize itself in.”

Rey thought of what Maz Kanata had told her, down beneath her domain by the lake. The old woman had thought that the only thing people ever fought against was the dark side. The only true enemy. Rey could see it now. It didn’t matter if it was the powerful Sith of ancient times, or Snoke; the Knights of Ren; the Empire or the First Order. They all originated from the dark side. A night, to oppose peace and freedom’s dawn. The dark between the stars.

She swallowed.

“Master… There is something else. Something I should tell you.”

He watched her, patiently awaiting.

“When I was on Vennarn,” she said, “he -- we fought. With our minds… He tried to get into my head, and he wanted me to keep him out. To shield myself. He said he wanted to witness my strength…

“One time, I lost control of my mind. At least that’s what I believe happened. I got caught up in the memories of my own, deeply, until I could only see the dark ones; the miserable ones, the doubt… I wouldn’t have gotten back, had he not called me back, urged me to return.”

_Had he not spoken my name. Had he not saved me…_

“When I came back to consciousness, the room was in disarray, as if some enormous force had blown through it… He told me it was because I’d lost control of myself, my powers. That I was taken so deeply down into my own darkest memories that I lost my way… Is it true, Master?” she said, not being able to hide the note of desperation slipping into her voice, scanning Luke’s face for something, anything that might hint what the Jedi Master was thinking. What _she_ should think about any of it.

_Did he lie to me? And if not, what does it_ mean?

_Please_ , she thought. _Tell me that I’m not insane._

Luke cleared his voice before finally speaking.

“I believe he told you the truth,” he said. “When a Force-sensitive is new to discovering her powers -- especially when that person is extraordinarily powerful -- they can happen to accidentally lose control and release all that power, if provoked.”

_Lose control_ how, she wanted to ask.

He frowned slightly, his eyes faraway, distracted by thought. “Know that these things are deeply personal and individual. I’m not sure if I can help you with it -- but be mindful. Always be careful when going deeper down into the layers of a mind accessible to a Force-sensitive. We all carry dark memories… and those are easy to get lost in.”

When he spoke again, his voice was fainter, as if he was speaking mostly to himself.

“So he wanted to train you… Or test your strength, your potential -- but was it his master’s wish, or his own…?”

Rey felt her own mind drifting away. She sighed, and felt her eyelids drooping. She could suddenly feel the exhaustion in her body, coming after a day of travelling, as the night had fallen darkly over the forest.

“I think we’ve had enough grave talk for one night,” said Luke. 

He rose to his feet and Rey heard the sound of the stool being dragged across the floor. She slowly got up, and pulled out a blanket from their bag of equipment, to fold out on the ground next to the dim fireplace.

She nearly fell down onto the soft covers, her body clearly grateful for the chance to lie down. Soon, all the thoughts constantly swarming in her mind were forced to surrender to the exhaustion, and she fell asleep.

_______________________________________

Rey immediately sensed that the sun was still down when she opened her eyes. The moons of Dagobah shone with a dim light through the windows, creating a small square of pale light on her blanket. She looked to her left and saw Luke at the other end of the small hut, sleeping as he sat with his back against the wall. 

Carefully, she pushed aside the blanket and rose to her feet. She walked to the exit -- memorizing Luke’s suggestion to duck her head -- and went outside.

The rain had stopped, and the sky was clear. The ever present white fog still moved in soft whirls close to the ground, but just a few meters up it seemed to stick to the trees, which created an opening over the clearing. A view to the sky.

Rey sat down on a rock next to the small hut, and she watched the deep blue night sky. 

When one looked at it like this, she thought, the planet was actually quite beautiful. An odd and foreign beauty, with the dark forest and the secretive mist; a beauty best seen in the dimness of the night. 

The stars were overwhelming. Thousands and thousands of them, most of them farther away than Rey could fathom.

Now, as she had finally started exploring the vastness of the universe, it seemed only so much more unfathomable. _Infinite_. There were so many planets and systems she didn’t even know about -- and fewer still that she could claim to have actually visited. So many new things to be discovered, explored, in these places far away. 

And that was just one galaxy.

Her whole world had expanded so drastically over a short amount of time. All the things she had seen, experienced since she left Jakku were overwhelming. All the people she had met… Everything was overwhelming. 

She was becoming a Jedi. That thought alone was unfathomable to her. If she could have told that to her earlier self -- the poor scavenger from Jakku -- that person wouldn’t have believed a word of it. The Jedi had been nothing but legends to her then, infinitely distant, like a bedtime story of magic and heroes. Luke Skywalker had been but a myth…

She’d wished then, in her earlier life; dreamed of understanding, of knowing.

Knowing who she was and where she came from. And deepest of all, the wish and hope for her family to return one day. Sometimes the thought of that had been the only thing that seemed to fully matter… the only thing to keep her going throughout the days, weeks, years…

_The belonging you seek is not behind you._

Her dreams were different ones now; greater. She thought perhaps she had gotten closer to understanding herself… She was beginning to unravel the mystery of her powers -- and the limits of them. Even though there were so many things yet veiled in darkness, yet to be uncovered…

She now knew that she had a purpose -- and even though her future was dim and unpredictable, that feeling of having a purpose; of being important for something and to someone -- was a strange relief. Maybe everyone wanted something like that; to believe they had a destiny chosen for them specifically. To believe that they were _meant_ for something.

For some people, that could become the most important thing of all. 

She had hopes now. Despite everything, she wanted to _give_ hope herself. She wanted to use the Force in her to strengthen the light, restore the balance. As far as her powers would be able to reach. And as a Jedi, she could.

She wasn’t a true Jedi yet. But she would be. Very soon, she would be.

A cool breeze whispered through the clearing, lifting strands of her hair, and Rey smiled to the stars.

The stars…

The light…

_Only pinpricks of brightness in the vast universe…_

_A distant glow…_

_And the darkness._

_All the darkness that exists between the stars…_

The world seemed to fade away into a blur; become distant as though once more veiled in mist.

The only thing she saw clearly was the night sky, the stars seeming to drift closer, watching, as she herself drifted farther away…

Or deeper within.

To somewhere else… a place that only existed within herself.

That other feeling; the strangeness she had felt for a while, casting a vague shadow over all.

There was her mind, her being; the glow of her. And then there was something else, too.

Another whisper.

_So much pain--shadows--the darkness is everywhere --_

_Shadows… drowning…_

_Shadows--fear--my fear--their fear--the shadows are all I know-they are --_

_All. The shadows are all._

Louder. More powerful. More present.

The whispers were thoughts. Or emotions. And they weren’t hers. 

The sense, the other presence, growing stronger.

Like night, and darkness, and moonlight.

She felt a faint, bitter twist of despair, regret. A hopelessness. As if those things could ever have faded.

Then, a voice.

_Rey…_

Her thoughts were, for a moment, paralyzed. 

_You?_ she thought back. Naively. 

A short silence. Then --

_There you are._ The voice -- different in her head, and yet with the same soft familiarity -- appeared to have almost a note of sarcasm. _You hear me…_

_Why?_ she asked. Not with any trace of hope; simply the helplessness. The despair. _Why are you here?_

_In your mind, you mean?_ That resonating voice. _His_ voice. _Your thoughts? Your dreams?_

Strange, the way the sound of it seemed to shift. Fading in and out, in one moment distant, as though faraway; the next soft and shockingly close, as if he was standing right next to her, whispering the words.

_Awake, asleep…_ His voice drifted, then came closer. She thought she heard a note of sadness in his words. A regret. A despair, like her own. _You were everywhere. You still are everywhere…_

Something that sounded like a sigh. Maybe it was just a breeze whispering through the treetops. _You change me. You change... all of it._

The forest whispered around her in the night. The stars winked and shone, casting an almost ethereal light. A countless number of questions whirled in the back of her mind, but she had begun to lose any hope that there might be answers.

_You hear me. Do you see me, too?_ his voice said. 

_My bright glow. My dawn._

She had closed her eyes, and she saw the image of him before her; of course she did. The pale, smooth skin of his face. The bronze eyes. The night black waves of hair. The scar.

The cold wind whispered against her face, soothing. 

_Yes_ , she thought. _I see you._

_My shadow. My night._

She opened her eyes, and for a moment, it was as though the image of him lingered, along with his presence. She thought she saw his figure standing before her in the clearing, turning his gaze away from the stars above, watching her instead. The image soon faded, and she wondered if it had been an illusion. 

A ghosting feeling, like a hand, lightly touching her face. It might have been her imagination.

She closed her eyes once more.

His presence was beginning to drift away.

_Shadows--pain--fear…_ Scattered thoughts, gone with the wind.

_Don’t get too close…_

_________________________________

The forest had fallen silent.

Rey lay on the ground, legs curled up beneath her, arms hugging her knees; barely noticing the cold seeping up from the earth. 

Everything seemed suddenly colder. Darker. The silence was everywhere.

Her inside was a turmoil, but her eyes were dry, no sound coming across her lips. 

Maybe there was darkness in her, she thought. Maybe these things were all a sign; not of her ability to _save_ him --

But that she herself might be just as lost.

She rolled over, so she was lying on her back, looking up at the sky.

A new bitterness seemed to have taken root inside her. She figured she had to make the attempt. To become a Jedi. Even if there might be a certain darkness in her -- even if she might not, after all, be fit for that life…

She felt her jaw clench with a strange determination. She _had_ to make the attempt. She damn right would continue her training.

She felt the muscles in her body tense, then relax.

_Don’t get too close, bright one…_

She was beginning to doubt it could have been any different. She doubted she would ever have had a _choice._

_How could I have fought against the will of fate?_

_How could I have stayed away from you, Ben Solo?_

How often she wished it could have been so. How often she wondered what might have happened, had she never met Kylo Ren.

Her breath caught in her throat. Nevertheless, the determination stayed.

Rey closed her eyes.

And tried, in that moment, to shut it out. She tried to lock herself away, from the deeper part of her mind, from the rest. She willed that part of her silent. Tried, against all hope, despite everything, to silence a presence, a connection that had made her sense him, over incredible distances; even through the obscuring darkness that surrounded Vennarn. 

She didn’t know if it worked this way. But she had to try.

She didn’t know what else to do; how to accept the thought of _any_ of this. Whatever it was. Luke had told her he _trusted_ her, that she must _believe_ … But even Luke couldn’t possibly know about everything.

She needed distance -- even though physical distance appeared to have ceased to make a difference.

So she turned herself away, forced herself not to listen. 

A shudder went through her, as from a cold. It seemed that the shadows in the clearing grew looming, darker; the stars above suddenly losing some of their brightness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update was later than the usual -- I admit I've had some struggles with this chapter. It also become significantly longer than first anticipated... But I hope you enjoyed it. ((Next chapter, I promise we'll see some more action))
> 
> Any feedback is much appreciated. <3
> 
> MTFBWY!


	18. The Beginning of a Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn needs to stop overthinking his worst case scenarios.
> 
> Although, as he will later come to realize, some of them may not be as far-fetched after all.

Finn was standing in the main hangar of the Dantooine base, and he wasn’t sure what the hell he’d thrown himself into.

They were a whole little group standing together in front of the passage that led back into the Resistance base. Poe was standing right next to him, carrying their back of supplies. He held it carefully, which was good. They would certainly need it at some point. 

Standing with her back to the door was General Organa, and next to her was the entire fellowship of droids. Neither C-3PO nor R2-D2 hardly seemed to ever leave the general’s side. And BB-8 had made the decision himself to follow Poe and Finn along on their journey -- the little droid had been insistent on the matter.

Their mission was in fact quite simple -- and yet not. The first part of their trip started on Eriadu; a smaller yet crucial planet in the Outer Rim territories. Their mission, as such, was straightforward; they were to travel to a village located on the grasslands of Eriadu, and once there, they were to _make themselves visible_. Make themselves _heard_. The point of their journey was, as Leia would have said it, to make themselves and the Resistance visible to the common people of the galaxy. None of it had been really clarified, the way Finn saw it, but that much was clear; they were to speak to the citizens of a village yet untouched by the shadow of the First Order. They were to speak about fighting and resisting, about the battle for freedom that was so crucially important to fight. To speak of the _truth_ that was the First Order -- a truth most people might not realize before it was too late.

“So, we’re actually going to expose ourselves,” he had said when he’d talked to Poe just earlier. Or rather, what he’d pointed out for maybe the fifteenth time. “I thought the whole point of _this_ \--“ He had made a grand gesture with his arm, indicating the whole base and the people within it, “was to stay _hidden_.”

“The _point_ is to grow in strength and numbers so we can fight back,” the pilot had answered. “Staying hidden is a byproduct of being hunted by higher authorities.”

The mission in itself wasn’t so dangerous. They were travelling alone, just the two of them and the droid. Because standing and talking to a crowd of villagers was not dangerous in itself -- but they would be sadly doomed if the Order got any information about them and their plans. Speaking up about anything was always a frightfully risky thing when you were part of the Resistance. Rebellious speeches such as the ones they were planning were deeply dangerous for anyone who listened, not to mention for the rebels who actually spoke.

It was a necessity, General Organa had said, if they wanted to recruit more people. It was a way to find out if there were any people -- any at all -- out in the galaxy who were ready to stand up and fight against the First Order. 

They might be lucky to find some suited people, but among the listeners, they were sure to encounter people with more hostile minds as well. People who would be ready to give them away without a second thought. And they would be sadly exposed if that should happen before they had a chance to get far out of the system, and the Order’s troopers would be on the hunt for them - nothing but a droid, a Resistance pilot and a deserted stormtrooper with a miserable life story…

Finn definitely needed to stop overthinking his worst-case scenarios. 

In the end, he could hardly regret his decision. He wanted to do something that would put him to use. He wanted to go with his friend. He thought no matter what happened, at least they would be able to help each other out -- and hopefully get through it, together. 

He was Resistance now. And he wanted to live that life. He would make himself worthy.

He looked at Poe once again, and the pilot met his gaze. Instead of the orange flight suit, Poe was wearing simple black trousers and a black shirt. On top of that, he wore a simple, faded brown jacket. Nothing exceptional and flattering, only practical and sustainable. Finn wore clothes given to him by the Resistance which undeniably bore resemblance to those worn by his friend.

He had also decided to wear the jacket given to him by Poe. The pilot had made it clear he didn’t mind Finn keeping the jacket -- as long as he took good care of it. 

This morning, he had flashed a quick, radiant smile by the sight of Finn wearing it. 

Now Poe seemed to be slightly anxious to leave, and Finn admittedly felt the same way. It had to be better to get their journey started as fast as possible instead of waiting, which would have made him restless. 

He looked over the different types of ships available in the wide hangar, everything from X-wings to large freighters and transports. They hadn’t yet been told which ship they were going to fly in.

General Organa pointed towards something in the other end of the hangar. “I see they’ve had it prepared for you already. There’s the ship you are going with.”

Poe was already gazing across the hangar. He looked speechless, which was a rare thing indeed; his skin turning slightly pale. Finn followed his gaze -- his jaw dropped.

“What a pile of garbage!” 

The words spontaneously burst out of his mouth before he could stop them. The general looked at him, the disapproval on her face mixed with faint amusement.

“Well, it is nevertheless the ship you are going to fly,” she said. 

She walked across the hangar to get to the object of their attention, all three droids following closely behind. Chewbacca, who was also there to send them off, came closely behind, growling darkly for himself. Finn, admittedly, still had difficulties understanding the Wookiee’s language, but there was no mistaking his disapproval of the subject.

Which, Finn reckoned, had to mean something significant, as Chewbacca had after all flown the _Millennium Falcon_ for several decades.

Finn and Poe finally came as the last, Finn glancing back at his friend with concern. 

A ship had been put aside specifically for their trip, and the sight of it was mildly alarming. 

It wasn’t very big, but it nevertheless managed to look incredibly old and worn. The cockpit and inside space was in fact quite small; it was the heavy wings and the lower part of the ship that occupied most of the room. The wings had folded themselves out, and they seemed ridiculously large compared to the front part of the ship. The part beneath the cockpit was bulky and box-shaped. 

Finn thought it looked like a ship used for smuggling. A ship used for smuggling in the very old days. 

“This is a… rather special freighter that we’ve had for a while,” General Organa said, sounding perfectly unaffected. “I don’t suppose you recognize the model, it’s quite old…”

Poe, who had been alarmingly silent for a while, finally opened his mouth and broke in, “Old? Yes, it bloody well is old! Not sure how we’re even going to get this thing flying!” 

Finn thought he heard a faint tremor in the pilot’s voice. But then, it was, truly, a deplorable sight.

“Come now, Poe,” the general said. “I know this is a… slightly worn out model, but I thought that if anyone could fly it, it would be you. I trust you in this, Dameron, and I hope very much that you will live up to my trust.” 

“Of course, General,” Poe said. “I’m sorry. I was just surprised, that’s all. A freighter, you said?”

The general cast a quick glance across the ship ahead of them. 

“Yes, an old freighter,” she said, “that has been used for rather special types of cargo over the time. In fact, this ship was mainly used for smuggling people. That’s why the cargo room underneath is so big. All sorts of people -- people who didn’t want to be found at any cost.”

She cleared her throat, her perfectly neutral facade beginning to crumble; as if she couldn’t hide her concern anymore about whether this ship was actually capable of flying. And Finn had to admit that he felt equally concerned about the stability of the freighter -- more so because he was the one who was going to travel across the galaxy in it.

General Organa continued, “The thing that used to make this type of ship very convenient for smugglers is that it’s… easily blended into the crowd. Few people would suspect this ship to hide anything. The last time it was used was long ago,” she added.

“How long ago exactly?” asked Finn.

“We don’t know the exact age of the ship,” said the general. “It certainly goes back to the days of the Old Republic.”

She looked at Poe thoughtfully.

“You are our best pilot, Poe, but you must be the one to make the final decision. I know this isn’t your usual X-wing, and if you don’t feel comfortable…”

“I will manage this flight, ma'am,” Poe said with renewed strength in his voice. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out. I’m sorry that I made you doubt in me.”

She flashed light smile, and her tense figure seemed to relax.

“Thank you. I knew I could depend on you. Now, the reason why you’ve been assigned to this ship exactly is that, in a way, it's too old for the First Order to know about. This model has been built in a way so it’s cloaked to their modern sensors and computers. You will be as good as invisible.”

“So we’ll have the smallest chance of getting noticed by the wrong people at the wrong time,” Poe said.

“Exactly.” Leia nodded slowly, mostly for herself, and turned her head to look at Finn.

“Finn; you’re not going to fly the ship, but you will still be a passenger on it,” she said, her gaze searching. “Are you still absolutely certain you’re ready to do this?”

Finn swallowed, then stood up straight and tried to make his expression as plain as possible. “I am certain, general.”

Even though he still wasn’t sure, exactly, _what_ they were supposed to do, and _how_ they were supposed to do it.

“Good,” she said. The general turned to the group next to her, consisting of Chewbacca and all three droids.

“Now, you must really go. It’s better to get a mission like this started instead of this awful passive waiting. BB-8, are you ready?”

The little droid appeared more than ready. It came rolling over the floor towards the freighter as fast as it possibly could, and stopped only when it was right beside the ship to turn around towards the two other droids.

3PO raised one golden arm in a waving gesture towards BB-8.

“Farewell little fellow. It has been a true pleasure working alongside you, and I am genuinely sorry that I cannot follow. My parts are stiffening with age, and I am getting too old for such adventures.”

Its golden eyes seemed to run over the entire scenery, the freighter, the humans, the other droids, and the Wookiee. 

“My knowledge and translating abilities would certainly have been priceless on such a mission, but I’m afraid that my help is deeply needed elsewhere --“

Finn got the time to wonder if 3PO had prepared an entire speech for them before they went.

The golden droid continued, “Now BB-8, you must go while I stay behind with my dear friend R2. We both wish you all good luck.”

A series of beeps came from R2-D2, and 3PO took a probably indignant step back.

“Me? Teary eyed? That is nonsense! Such organic behavior is certainly outside of my code!”

The two droids fell behind -- their arguing continued as faint chatter and beeping in the distance. Finn stopped paying attention and instead turned his gaze to Poe. The pilot seemed distressed and anxious, practically sizzling with impatience.

They walked to the freighter where BB-8 was waiting. A ramp had been put out for them, leading inside the ship, and they walked up together. Just before he was inside, Finn turned around one last time to the people left behind in the hangar.

The two droids were obviously still occupied by their disagreement -- General Organa stood facing the ship with Chewbacca at her side; a position he barely seemed to leave nowadays. The two of them, keeping together at times when they would otherwise have been left alone. As Leia Organa had lost her husband, Chewbacca had also lost his best friend and companion. 

Finn couldn’t even imagine such a feeling. Didn’t know how it would feel to experience such grief. If he ever lost… No, he wouldn’t think about it.

The general smiled and waved, and the Wookiee growled a greeting. Finn turned away, and went into the freighter.

The freighter was indeed very sparse with inside space, which Finn had predicted already by looking at it earlier. There was a narrow space, like a short corridor, when he stepped inside, leading to the cockpit in the front. 

A piercing, screeching sound came from behind, and Finn looked over his shoulder only to see that it was the ramp closing. BB-8 was curiously beeping, rolling around on the small amount of floor to examine every corner. Finn moved to the cockpit. There, he fell down in the co-pilot’s seat next to Poe. 

He thought of Rey for a second, and the thought made him feel a sting in his chest. How he wished she could have been here with them.

The pilot was closely searching the freighter’s panels before him.

“Does this thing even have a hyperdrive?” said Finn.

“It has one, but it’s old. Most likely been added later, taken from another vessel… never know how much we can count on such a thing,” Poe murmured, partly for himself. “But don’t worry. We’ll get there no matter what. Maybe just… slightly later than expected.”

Finn rolled his eyes. Poe’s face suddenly lit up.

“Okay… Okay, I think I got it. Seatbelts fastened everyone. We’re going out.”

“So fast?” said Finn, bewildered. “You already figured out how this thing works?”

“Yes. Or, nearly,” Poe added. “These models shouldn’t be very complicated. It should work.”

Finn looked over his shoulder towards the droid in the back.

“Hold on, BB-8! We’re taking off,” he called.

He watched Poe as he slowly tapped different switches on the panel, his face set. Finn had a deep trust in his friend, but he still couldn’t ignore a slight feeling of worry in his guts. He tried to focus on the hangar exit just ahead of them, and the clear sky that opened for them outside.

“Now -- let’s see what this thing’s got for us,” said Poe.

Nothing happened.

The pilot looked completely puzzled, as if he simply couldn’t see what he might have done wrong. Finn was just about to speak when a low, screeching sound came from the engine. The ship started shaking alarmingly, and slowly, very slowly it began to take off from the ground.

Finn held a tight grip to around the edges of his seat as the old freighter fought itself into the air. They kept going up farther and farther without any issues, and Poe smirked proudly. 

His expression stiffened, though, when the ship started rolling from side to side.

The whole freighter was suddenly shaking and destabilized, and Finn was beginning to feel slightly panicked. Now they seemed to _lose_ speed, and the sounds coming from the engines beneath them were mildly alarming. 

Poe seemed in a state of pure confusion.

“I don’t understand this… Why is this happening?” he murmured in a low voice. Behind them came the sounds of something rolling frantically back and forth across the floor, and Finn judged by the noises that BB-8 was presumably bumping into every possible thing inside the ship. It didn’t exactly work to calm his nerves.

“BB-8, be careful!” Poe shouted. “You have to stand still!”

He got a series of loud, indignant beeps in response.

Finn looked worriedly at his friend. “Poe, are you sure you’ve got this under control --”

“I HAVE TOLD YOU I CAN FLY ANYTHING!” 

Poe tried pressing some more buttons, which only caused the ship to tilt dangerously to one side. He cursed grimly, then took hold of the helm with both hands and pulled it. The freighter reacted suddenly by turning, now to the opposite side. 

Poe murmured some quiet prayers. Finn did everything he could to stay in his seat, and he heard a sound that was unmistakably BB-8 bumping loudly and repeatedly into the wall.

The ship kept turning and turning in a loop, but Finn noticed that the shaking had nearly stopped. Poe kept pulling the helm until they were once again horizontal to the ground far below. He smashed his hand down on a big button, and the ship nearly jumped forward, gaining speed until they were finally free of Dantooine’s atmosphere.

Out in the darkness of space, they both seemed to relax. Poe leaned back in his seat and wiped his dark hair out of his face. Finn exhaled loudly in relief.

Poe watched his friend with a searching look in his eyes. “Well, I’m not gonna say that went well. But at least we’re on our way now. How are you doing?”

“Fine -- I’m fine,” Finn said slowly. “You think it’s going to work alright from here?”

Poe frowned, thoughtful. “It should work. I suppose it was just the engines --it hasn’t been flown in a while…”

Finn nodded. “Will you need my help with anything? I can probably do some…”

“No, it’s alright,” Poe broke in. “Now we just have to wait and keep half an eye on the course.”

He was already sounding partly distracted, and his gaze was turned to the seemingly endless darkness ahead of them, dotted with thousands of brightly glowing stars. Finn leaned back, and decided to put his faith in Poe. The pilot would know what they were doing.

He closed his eyes and breathed in, trying to ignore the thoughts and worries in his mind for just a short while.

“Is it possible to enter hyperspace?” he asked drowsily.

“Setting the coordinates now. Then we’ll see what happens.”

Finn nodded slowly. His mind was already drifting away.

______________________________________

Finn returned to consciousness as he felt a strange, vibrating feeling beneath him. 

He opened his eyes, realizing he’d probably been gone for a while -- not entirely sleeping, but still… gone. 

He sat up straight in a sudden movement, realizing that the vibrating feeling came from the ship. The disturbance was still increasing; unpredictable shudders going through the entire ship, that he could feel down to his bones. A high pitched, squeaking noise had started as well, starting as a faint whistle before growing louder and louder. A cold, unsettling panic ran through Finn’s veins. 

He unfastened himself and rose to his feet. He spun around, only to see Poe standing in the doorway to the cockpit. The pilot looked pale and perplexed.

“I have just looked around, checked the engines. Nothing visibly seems wrong, but it isn’t stabilized. It’s like it can’t produce enough power for the ship to keep going.”

“For how long has this been going on?” Finn demanded.

“Not long, just a few minutes. I didn’t want to alarm you in case it was nothing considerable --”

Poe moved back to his seat and checked something on the panels. He frowned slightly and looked straight ahead, thoughtful. 

“But --?” Finn said, feeling as if the pilot was holding back something.

Poe cleared his voice. “There are good news and bad.”

“Well, how bad is the bad news?” snarled Finn impatiently. He walked all the way up so he was standing right behind Poe, following his gaze. He now saw that they were in fact approaching a planet; it had a clouded, greyish surface, painted with bruises of brown and golden.

“The good news is,” Poe said in a perfectly calm voice, “that the planet you see right ahead is Eriadu. The bad news… Well, I doubt the ship will manage to keep going much longer.”

Finn didn’t doubt that for a second. The ship was now shaking and tilting alarmingly from side to side, so Finn had to steady himself against the wall to not to fall -- just like it had done while they had still been in the Dantooine atmosphere. Deep, rumbling sounds now came from the engines, a rising roar beneath the high pitched screech. BB-8 was rolling back and forth, beeping restlessly and seeming extremely upset. 

The planet ahead -- Eriadu -- seemed to grow larger as they approached, filling their vision.

Poe continued: “But we’ll be within the atmosphere in a few moments. So that should settle things.”

“You mean we’re going to crash?” Finn nearly shouted into his ear.

“Yes, but on the right planet.”

“Oh, well, _now_ I feel reassured!”

“WHAT OTHER CHOICE DO WE HAVE?” yelled Poe. The pilot seemed to be losing some of his self-control at last. “Would you rather be floating about in space, in a broken freighter?”

Finn didn’t answer the question. His body was tense and his knuckles white. Whatever this mission would result in, he hoped that it would be worth all of this.

At the same time, they both realized that the shaking in the freighter had stopped. The screeching sounds had died out as well, and for one brief moment, it seemed as though time had stopped completely. They were inside the planet’s atmosphere now, the surface landscape far below looking endless and flat from here. They were still too high above it for Finn to see what kind of landscape it was; everything was just a blur of pale colours for his human eyes.

Slowly, very slowly, the freighter began to dive in the air. Any power source it might have been moving forward on had clearly stopped working completely -- the ship now followed its natural course set by gravity. It turned in the air until the frontal part was pointing almost directly towards the ground. 

Then it began picking up speed. 

The ship was shaking and turning from side to side in the fall, and Poe and Finn could do nothing but frantically try to find something stable for balance. Different boxes with unknown content were tossed about inside the ship, torn free from the materials and ropes that ought to keep them in place. 

Finn was suddenly flung directly downwards, his forehead bumping violently into the panels, by BB-8, who couldn’t possibly stay in the same place with all the turbulence. Curses burst out of Finn’s mouth -- regarding both the significant pain that gathered in his forehead, as well as anyone who could have possibly believed it would be convenient to invent a round droid with a complete absence of limbs.

The freighter’s shaking movements should have made Finn feel sick as they continued to drop like a stone. His stomach was however filled with another kind of sickness; a tight knot of pure, cold panic. It was difficult for him to measure their distance to the ground, compared with the speed with which they approached it. But he had a feeling that this whole thing went far too fast.

With a sideways glance, he caught a glimpse of Poe pulling a number of different switches, more for trying anything to see if it would make a difference, rather than actually knowing what he was doing.

“Poe, we’re approaching too fast!” Finn shouted from underneath the droid. “We’re gonna be blown into atoms!”

“Let’s keep some optimism!” Poe called back. “I’m trying to activate the brakes. It might slow us down if it works.”

Finn looked out of the front glass -- now pointing downwards -- because he couldn’t really look anywhere else from his present position. However, he immediately regretted that. 

They were still diving fast through the air, caught in a freefall. The ground beneath seemed clearer now. He caught glimpses of bits of dry vegetation and rocks, scattered on a sunbaked surface.

“There’s sand beneath us,” Finn called.

“Great. A soft landing, then,” Poe shouted back, unaffected. Finn was dazed by the pilot’s optimism, though he couldn’t feel the slightest bit of it himself.

What a foolish mission, he thought. What a hopeless cause they’d thrown themselves into. 

Just in that moment, Finn felt a small change in the ship. He wasn’t sure what it was -- but maybe it was the brakes that were finally beginning to work. Maybe they could slow them down, just the slightest, minimizing their chance of getting themselves killed.

Several things happened at once. The ground was shockingly close now, and Finn began to realize exactly how bad his position was, nearly pressed against the front part of the ship that would hit the ground first. He saw Poe gripping the helm with both hands as he probably realized the same thing, in a last, desperate attempt to pull the ship up more horizontally to the ground. The freighter didn’t seem to react at first, but then, it slowly turned to a less unusual position in the air. BB-8 fell heavily to the floor, now again being the floor, and then came Finn. He looked up from the floor, dizzy and confused, and caught a quick glance out the front glass before it was covered by a wave of sand.

The freighter made an almost mourning sound when it crashed to the ground. 

They were all jerked forward in a sudden movement, and Finn’s vision blackened. 

_______________________________

Only few moments could have passed before he slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was blinding sunlight, shining through the cracked front glass. Then Poe’s face filled his whole vision. The sunlight shining from behind Poe’s head made it look like he wore a peculiar halo.

“Finn? Can you hear me?”

Finn nodded slowly, and Poe looked instantly relieved. “Oh, good. You seemed to be unconscious for a moment and I was worrying… Never mind.”

His halo vanished when he moved away from the sun. Finn raised himself up on his elbows to survey the damages.

Most of the front part of the freighter had been more or less destroyed in the crash. They had made a lucky landing though, landing horizontally right into the side of a dune. The crash had thrown Poe and himself to the back part of the ship, which, when looking at the state of the front part and the cockpit, seemed the sole reason why they were left relatively unscathed.

Now Poe dragged something out from underneath the pilot’s seat that seemed to lie down on the side. Finn recognized it as a large satchel, containing their food and equipment. The pilot pulled the strap of the back over his shoulder and looked to his friend. 

“Are you all right?”

Finn rose to his feet and tried to feel if there was anything in his body that felt strange or out of place. He carefully felt his ribs -- nothing seemed to be broken. His forehead ached, but it was just the lingering pain from when he had collided with the freighter's panels.

“I think I’m fine,” he told Poe. “And you?”

“Me too. We were both lucky.” He cast one last glance at the mess inside the broken freighter. “Let’s leave. Never feel fully comfortable in a ship that might blow up any moment.”

Finn figured he hadn’t yet come to think of that possibility.

He moved towards the exit end of the ship -- that had been damaged the least -- and yanked the emergency hatch open. Hurriedly, he maneuvered himself out. He spun around when he heard beeping sounds from inside the ship, but calmed as he heard Poe’s voice.

“BB-8! Come on out of there!” More beeps in response. 

“Yes, I know this was not what you expected of this journey,” Poe said. “Can you move? Anything broken?”

“Poe, get the droid and yourself out here!” Finn shouted. _You were the one who said we should get out_. He didn’t say that. He didn’t want to sound annoying.

Poe ducked out of the ship and jumped lightly to the ground, BB-8 following just behind. Poe walked away from the freighter, and his eyes seemed to scan their surroundings. Finn followed his gaze to get an impression of their situation. 

The first thing that came to his mind as he looked upon the planet surface of Eriadu was… _emptiness_. It looked as if not a soul had been to this place for ages, and Finn couldn’t help thinking it felt rude of them to make such a sudden intrusion, crashing down here in the midst of the silence. 

They were surrounded by wide fields of sparse, dry grass and bush-like plants. They had landed on a hill of pale sand, but the sand was not something that seemed to dominate the area. The land around them was flat, sorely lacking places to seek shadow and shelter, Finn quickly registered. The dry bushes and crooked trees in the landscape barely made it to the height of his waist. There were rocks and stones scattered about in the landscape, but they were of small size too. When Finn gazed further out, he could see the contours of hills on the horizon, though they had to be miles away. 

“The grasslands of Eriadu,” Poe said thoughtfully, walking up to stand by his side. “We must’ve hit the right spot closer than we thought.”

Finn looked back at the useless wreck of their freighter, and he used one hand to cover his eyes from the sunlight. The sun of this planet was on its way down, but its rays were still sharp. It shone brightly here on the open fields, though the heat didn’t feel unbearable -- and there was a logical reason for that. A sharp wind howled over the flat landscape, and cooled the air drastically, keeping the sun and the heat at bay. The resulting temperature was nothing like the merciless heat of Jakku, as Finn remembered it. 

He looked at Poe, who seemed to be distracted once again by the deplorable sight of the ship. Finn now read the name of the freighter -- _The Republican_ \-- written on the starboard side of the hulk. Somehow, it seemed quite fitting; that the freighter had finally passed its days. Built for a difference age and having now outlasted its time, just as the days of the old Republic were long gone…

Finn briefly wondered if maybe the wind wasn’t already rotting his brain.

But then, maybe it was just their hopeless situation. Apparently already driving him mad.

Poe shook his head in an equally hopeless gesture, empty eyed, and Finn couldn’t help himself. 

“’I can fly anything’. Well, I have to say, it _was_ something of a statement --”

Poe spun around, fuming. “You think this is _my_ fault? They were supposed to have checked this ship! It was supposed to _fly_ ,” he shouted. Finn tried to calm his friend down, saying that he hadn’t meant it that way, hadn’t thought.

It wasn’t very usual for Poe to lose his mind like this, but Finn thought they were probably both a little beside themselves in the moment. After all, they were stranded on a planet unknown to them in what seemed to be far out in the middle of nowhere… But he decided to bother about that later. He couldn’t afford time for that now.

“You think the ship is going to explode?” he said, mostly to change the subject, but also from earnest worry. 

“Never really know. I’m not sure what’s happening with the engines, and I honestly don’t wanna know.”

Then, plainly, Poe added, “We should find a place to rest. The sun is catching the horizon.”

Finn nodded and seized their satchel with supplies, which Poe had dropped unceremoniously on the ground. He turned away from the wreck of the _Republican_ , and began his walk into the unknown.

“Hurry up, BB-8,” he called to the droid, who quickly came rolling up beside him.

“Wait -- where are you going? Why are you taking our bag?” Poe shouted after him.

“I thought you wanted to go,” Finn replied without stopping or glancing back.

Poe now followed, hurrying after him. “But why that direction? How do you know --”

“This way can be as good as any other,” Finn said plainly. “But if you have any alternative suggestions, pray enlighten me.”

Poe rolled his eyes but made no further objection.

__________________________________

They had only walked for a short while when the dim light made it difficult for them to keep going. The ground was uneven, scattered with stones in all sizes, making it an excellent place for tripping or getting your feet stuck. BB-8 was having the worst difficulties of the three of them, the uneven terrain providing a poor surface for him to navigate across. With the spared light left, it was even harder to remain aware of all those obstacles.

The sun had set since they’d left the ship wreck; a blazingly bright stain on the sky that had lit up the landscape with the colours of flames, before it disappeared in the horizon beyond the hills. The day had shifted into a dim twilight, and Finn still had not seen a single living creature besides Poe and himself. The whole place was silent as the grave, except for the winds that kept blowing with increasing ferocity over the flat landscape. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the complete lack of life; in some ways it was disturbing and unsettling; in other ways a feeling of complete freedom. To think that, right now, they might have all this land for themselves.

They had walked in silence for a while, only interrupted by frequent complaints from the little droid, but now Poe broke the quiet.

“We can’t go on like this much longer. The darkness settles quickly here. It’s better to find a place for camping while we still can.”

Finn nodded in agreement. He could suddenly feel the deep exhaustion, like a fog over his mind and body. They both needed food and rest after their hectic travel to this planet. After all, crashing down in the middle of nowhere took away some of your spirits. 

He looked ahead, and pointed at a silhouette before them, growing larger and clearer as they’d proceeded in its direction. “That shape. It could be a rock or something. It might provide us shelter from the wind.”

“Right, I see it,” said Poe. “Come along, BB-8!”

Their strides got longer and they walked faster the last little bit they needed, both eager to reach this new, comprehensible destination. Finn seized the satchel, which was beginning to feel like a deadweight, and a rustling sound came from the probably indignant droid, who couldn’t possibly move as fast as the two.

They made it to the protruding rock, so conveniently placed for the three of them, but assumedly the only one of the kind in the area. In the matte, dim light still left from the day, the rock seemed to tower up in the middle of the landscape, a lonely giant reaching for the sky. When standing at the far side of the rock, they were nearly completely protected from the sharp wind. They decided to settle down on a flat sort of stone platform on the calmer, sheltered side of the rock. Finn let the bag drop from his shoulder and let himself slide to a sitting position, leaning against the wall of rock, surprisingly smooth and even.

Poe sat down next to him and closed his eyes for just a brief moment. He sighed heavily before opening them again, looking at Finn. 

“We should build a fire,” said Poe. “The temperature might drop suddenly, during the night.”

“Right.”

Finn suddenly felt grateful to have Poe with him here. Only together would they have any hope of completing their mission, even under the current given circumstances.

Also, it might have taken him a bit longer by himself, to think about such practical things as building a fire.

If he had been alone, and if it had been some time earlier in his life, Finn thought he would have wanted to simply give up. His earlier self would have felt hopeless and inadequate in a situation like this, bound to fail. He had been told never to act too independently. Never to act in a certain way, unless his orders required it. To, preferably, attempt to bury any other thoughts or ideas that might be a distraction.

He watched his friend as Poe searched the ground around the stone platform for dry branches and twigs, in the spared light left from the day.

He rose to his feet and got to work himself, grabbing the satchel and producing some of their spared supplies from its depths. None of the food they’d brought was truly delicious or interesting, but it could certainly be made edible. In the meantime, Poe had made a fire from a little pile of branches in front of them, and the rock provided enough shelter for the flames to dance calmly, protected from the wind.

The light from the fire reflected in Poe’s dark hair with sparks of golden light. And Finn suddenly thought their whole mission didn’t seem as completely hopeless after all.  
  
At least, he was no longer alone.  
  
He pulled a small blanket from the bottom of the satchel -- there were as much as three blankets, along with all the other things they’d brought along -- and folded it to use as a pillow beneath his head. He felt exhausted enough to fall asleep right away -- his body so tired that the hard base of rock right now seemed like the most comfortable bed.

_____________________________________

Finn opened his eyes again some time later, convinced that he had not slept at all.  
  
He'd been lying down, eyes closed, shifting from side to side, but without ever finding the peace his mind needed to fall asleep.  
  
He had been lost in thoughts. Insistent as they were, they filled his mind and resisted to let go. Or maybe he was the one hesitant to let go of them.  
  
Now Finn rolled around so he was lying on his back, facing the dim night sky painted with a spray of stars. He tried to clear his head for a moment. Then he rose to his feet.  
  
The wind had not abated, but it felt as if it had finally calmed just a little over the night. It was softer than it had been earlier, soothing. The fire Poe had built was dying out, only a few bright orange sparks left in the charred wood. Poe himself was lying down, turned away from Finn so he couldn’t decide whether the other was asleep, or awake like himself.  
  
Finn automatically began walking, moving just some meters away from the stone podium that served as their camping place. He moved away from the protecting shadow of the rock and turned his face upwards to feel the cold breeze, his eyes closed. And, finally, his mind seemed to be at peace, just for a moment. The worries would always return at another time.  
  
He walked farther away until he reached the top of a rounded hill that rose close to the protruding rock. He sat down there, and let his fingers run lightly through the tufts of dry grass.  
  
He often thought the most important thing, for him, was to protect the people he cared for. He was with the Resistance now, but he often felt like as if his cause seemed so infinitely more simple and personal. Maybe feeling that way wasn’t as great and heroic, but it was how he’d come to feel, for a number of different reasons. His own wishes might be personal, but they were nevertheless fierce.  
  
He wanted to protect the people he cared about more than everything, whatever the cost. He would fight for _freedom_ , if it meant their freedom. Free of the galaxy’s shadows. What a beautiful dream; however impossible and unattainable it seemed at this point.  
  
He was constantly worried about Rey; it was a worry that burdened him and never quite left him. He knew that he shouldn’t be. They had both helped each other many times, saved each other many times. Together, they had helped each other to move _on_.  
  
Rey was strong and brave; truly, she was more than that. She was _powerful_. And, even though he tried to deny it to himself, that was exactly what frightened him.  
  
When they’d first met, she had been just a desert scavenger. Fiercer and braver that most young women her age, but still just Rey. He knew that wasn’t the truth, though, that the power had always been within her, waiting for its awakening.  
  
And now when she was becoming a Jedi. Travelling a path he would never be able to follow. He would never fully understand what she was feeling. He would never understand the ways of the Force -- he was no Jedi, and would never be. It was a future he couldn’t even begin to imagine.  
  
Whatever happened, he just didn’t want to lose her. Finn had never had any family to love. He had never had anyone to truly care about, or anyone who truly cared for him. Since his life changed forever, everything felt different. He now had a place to belong, and people he loved. He didn’t want harm to overcome them.  
  
Finn heard a faint rustle behind him, and he wasn’t surprised to find Poe, sliding down next to him on the ground. They sat there in silence for a while, together, the whisper of the wind the only sound.  
  
“This place should give me creeps,” Poe suddenly said. “The silence, the constant wind. But I… kinda like it. It feels like we’re the only people in the universe.”  
  
“Would you sometimes like to be? The only people in the universe,” Finn said softly.  
  
“When you say it like that, it sounds pretty sad, right? Hopeless. And that’s not how I feel -- I like living. I like the thought of making a difference…”  
  
He paused thoughtfully. “But sometimes, it would be nice to just… Set everything at rest. To have just one moment of _not_ having to think about everything and anyone else. To make time stop -- even during a war, in the small breaks in between battles. Even when it’s this _important_ \--“  
  
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I’m probably not making much sense now.”  
  
He was, but Finn didn’t say anything.  
  
He looked up at the night sky once again. The darkness was far from complete; he could easily see the contours of the landscape, of Poe next to him. The colours in this place were pale and fading in the dimness of the night, but the stars in the sky were as bright as ever. It felt like he’d so rarely in his life had the chance to simply watch, like this; to look upon everything in a different kind of light.  
  
Poe suddenly turned his head, watching him directly -- the expression in his eyes was serious, earnest, so that Finn immediately felt puzzled.  
  
“Finn -- do you love her? Your Jedi girl. Rey.”  
  
At first Finn didn’t answer. The question had come so unexpectedly and suddenly that for a few moments, he simply sat, speechless.  
  
“Why are you asking that?” he finally said.  
  
Poe shrugged. “I suppose it’s the way you behave around her, when she’s with you. You look at her like you want to protect her from all evil in the world. Like… She’s the bright star that all other objects circle around when she’s in the same room.”  
  
Though still a bit dazzled, Finn felt a spark of amusement. “That was very poetic, Poe.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
Finn cleared his voice. “Well -- I’m not sure, really…” he said thoughtfully. _This isn’t very eloquent_. “I don’t think so… I mean, I love her, I do -- but it’s different from -- that.”  
  
The pilot nodded. “I think I know what you mean. You want to protect her. You care about her like a best friend would do -- like a brother.”  
  
“Yeah. Exactly.” Finn felt suddenly, strangely relieved. _She is like a sister to me. I love her, as a sister_. “Yeah, I do.”  
  
It felt right. It _was_ right.  
  
He continued after a brief pause. “You see -- I’ve never known my family. Never had one. I suppose they’re out there somewhere but I wouldn’t know where to look for them -- wouldn’t know if they’re still alive. They probably wouldn’t recognize me anyway.  
  
“But after I ran away, everything changed. I met Rey by pure accident, and it wasn’t because she treated me nicely at first. Actually she called me a thief and hit me with a stick -- but that’s a different story.” He paused, and Poe laughed softly at his words. “What made the difference was how she treated me -- like a human. Like a _person_ , not a dispensable object. She might think of me as a thief… but at least thieves are _people_. Rey instantly acknowledged me as a human, just as you did.”  
  
Poe looked startled and surprised. “Me? You were the one who helped me escape. And it’s not like we managed to stick together for very long.”  
  
_But it mattered_ , thought Finn. _You know it mattered._   
  
“Poe, you were the first person to speak to me, like just one person to another, even though at that time we couldn’t have been more different,” he began. “Stars, you _named_ me. I’ve never known having a real name -- even my fireteam, my closest comrades, only called me by my operating number. Having a real name given to me by someone -- it felt like being reborn.”  
  
He knew it probably sounded odd, overwhelming but it was exactly how he’d felt. He had been given a new name, and by that a new identity; a chance for a new life.  
  
He didn’t know if it was just his imagination, but the sky seemed to have become just slightly brighter during their talk. It seemed that both days and nights on this planet passed quickly.  
  
“My life seems to have been an easy one, in comparison I mean,” Poe said.  
  
“You’re a member of the Resistance. That’s not an easy life -- that’s meaningful,” Finn objected.  
  
Poe smiled. “I was practically born into the rebellion. My parents were proud members of the Alliance -- my mother was a pilot herself. She used to take me with her, teach me how to fly, in the time before she died.”  
  
He fell silent, and for a moment the silence was all there was.  
  
“I don’t think your life has been easy,” said Finn suddenly. “Not at all. But it has been meaningful. Rather live a life of battles and danger, of freedom,” he said quietly, “than no life at all.”  
  
He looked at Poe, who was already watching him carefully.  
  
“You’re probably right,” the pilot said with a smile. He turned his head away to gaze up at the sky that seemed definitely paler now. The glow from the stars was fading but still present; the wind still blew over the flat, dry landscape.  
  
Poe rose to his feet and walked back the way they’d come, back towards their camp with the dying fire, and Finn soon followed.  
  
The camp looked just the way it had done when he left it, which couldn’t be that long ago after all. The pile of carbonized wood on the stone podium, the little droid resting calmly in a low energy doze, the curled blankets lying close against the wall of rock.  
  
“We should get some sleep before the sun rises,” said Poe. “We’ll need energy for tomorrow.”  
  
Finn nodded and walked across the podium to the spot where he’d tried to sleep earlier. As he was lying down on his back, he gazed up at the sky once more. Then he turned around to look at Poe, lying a few meters away.  
  
“Goodnight, pilot,” he said, his voice nearly a whisper. Poe didn’t turn around to face him, but Finn could almost hear the crooked smile in the other’s voice when he spoke.  
  
“Goodnight, traitor.”  
  
In that moment, Finn didn’t think it necessary to worry about what would happen in the morning. The mission and their situation suddenly didn’t seem as doomed and hopeless. And he didn’t want to be concerned about it. Not right now.  
  
In that moment, Finn felt absolutely comfortable that they were the only people in the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving some feedback. <3


	19. The Weapon of a Jedi

_Clack. Clack. Clack._

It was the sound of two wooden sticks clashing against each other repeatedly. Rey was beginning to hate that wooden stick, passionately. 

Luke would do combat training with her every evening, at the time when darkness began to fall over the forest, making the fog denser, impenetrable; casting a mystical veil over the whole place. 

She stroked one hand lightly over her forehead where drops of sweat had appeared. Her hair, tied in a small bun, was falling down in loose strands around her face, and it stuck to her skin in a most uncomfortable way. She exhaled in a way that sounded like a deep sigh of exhaustion, then felt a sharp pain blossoming in her shoulder; a shock that rattled her bones and would definitely add an extra bruise to her newly acquired collection. Her brief moment of not concentrating had cost her yet another lost fight. 

Rey wondered if the old man never felt just slightly tired. Luke seemed to have endless energy and concentration, a mind that was always clear and focused on what he was doing. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that a Jedi Master like Luke, one who had trained in the Force most of his life and fought in countless battles, would overcome her abilities. She still hadn’t had much training, not with real weapons, so she knew it would take some time. 

No one could be expected to become perfect swordsmen over such short time. And she knew she was one considerable step ahead from most, accustomed as she was to fight for her survival.

Nevertheless, losing every single fight during their combat training still did its part to lower her enthusiasm. And, despite her apparently calm façade, it made her incredibly frustrated.

“Rey. Are you ready?”

The tone in her master’s voice was perfectly calm and neutral, curiously, but not impatiently waiting for her to gather herself. His voice didn’t have the slightest note of exhaustion; nothing compared to how tired and dull she felt in every part of her body. 

“I’m fine,” said Rey. “I just need… Just a little break.”

“We’ll stop for today. You have done more than enough,” Luke said suddenly in a clear voice. He watched her carefully with a furrowed brow.

His voice signified no room for objection, but there was nevertheless something. Something that felt different, an odd sensation in the back of her mind that only grew, dulling the faraway ache of her muscles with its clarity.

Instead of nodding in surrender and easing her clutch of the imitated weapon, Rey distantly heard herself say, “No.”

Luke frowned and watched her with his specific look of concern; the piercingly earnest one. “Are you certain? You’ve been going on for a while --“

“I am.” She rolled her shoulders and straightened. She took a well-considered stance, adjusting her feet’s position on the ground to one that seemed casual, but should be nearly impossible to shatter. She seized the wooden stick, guarding herself, composing her overall position into one that was a delicate balance of lightness and force. 

One had to remain at all times mobile, adjustable, like grass drifting in the wind -- but at the same time impossible to break with the force of brute strength. To step lightly and easily on the ground whilst always maintaining balance and surefootedness. 

A distant voice in the very back of her mind made aware that she probably ought to be exhausted. The ache of sore muscles. The need of rest. They were there, but Rey impatiently shoved them away. There was something different this time; she could sense it. Something that was _more_ than such simple, physical needs. And that partial understanding of _more_ made her want to continue.

She had a feeling that this could be crucial, in one way or another.

Her master casually retook his former position, still frowning slightly.

“Remember what I told you,” he said. “Let yourself be calm. Never start a fight with a mind in turmoil. You must be prepared. Physical strength rarely decides who walks away as champion.”

_Open your mind._

_Now, reach out._

They were things he had told her, at the very beginning.

But he didn’t have to remind her of these things, Rey thought, not this time. For, this time, her mind was already prepared; filled with a sense of calm that came before any physical state her body might be in. It enlightened her, like a clear sight.

When Luke made his first move against her, she had already prepared her defense. She flung her arms upwards in a synchronized movement, exactly at the point where his attack had been aimed, and caused the wooden sticks to meet in the air with an almost singing sound. 

Rey couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t felt so _light_ in what seemed like forever. 

Luke attacked again, and again she was prepared. 

She prevented attacks and evaded them, not missing a single strike against her body, and she began to shift into a more offensive position, causing him to retreat backwards. Her movements were light, sure and fluid, not a single wrong step taken on the uneven ground. She whirled around, impossibly fast so that she nearly just appeared as a blurry shadow in the mist. Over and over, she attacked with her primitive weapon, and though her movements might seem fortunately random, none of them were without purpose. 

Rey’s mind was _clear_ , and it was surely _open_ , in a way that was stronger than anything she had earlier experienced. Or if so, this time she was aware of it, and she used it. Her movements might appear fast and ferocious, but her inner calm was like a glistening lake, its surface unbroken by sound or gusts of wind. She was herself, and she was not, for she fought with a power that was more than herself, and more than any human could contain by itself. 

_Passion, yet serenity._

_Chaos, yet harmony._

And she then came to the realization that she would never truly fight alone, endure alone. How could she ever have thought so? With this great energy flowing through the very fabric of the universe, flowing through minds and souls, encompassing and embracing both living and dead, one could never be on one’s own. Whether being able to feel that power inside, whether being able to _communicate_ it, it was there. It was there for every living thing; it existed for every living thing -- people sensitive with it, and those who could only believe, and those who were on the verge of not believing at all. 

For Rey, it was there. And she felt invincible. 

A single, overwhelmed tear ran down her cheek, and evading yet another strike from Luke, she discovered a crucial opening in his parades. With a nonchalant flick of her wrist she drove her weapon upwards to rest lightly under his jaw. An otherwise fatal position that demanded surrender. 

Luke let his own weapon drop to the ground in the acknowledgement of defeat. There was a flicker of something new in his eyes. Praise. And surprise, maybe, or wonder. 

Rey suddenly had what must be the feeling of a lit candle, perhaps rather a torch, being blown out by a sigh of wind. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she had to support herself with the wooden stick in order to remain standing. A wave of exhaustion replaced the before so light feeling of clarity. Luke watched her with deep concern, and he frowned yet again.

“You shouldn’t push yourself, Rey. I’m sorry that I let you go on for too long.”

She wanted to say something, to protest, but the tone in his voice was one of finality. He grabbed the wooden stick and walked away from the clear, light spot they used for training. Rey let herself fall down on a tree trunk nearby that made an excellent place to rest. She let her stick, which was beginning to feel heavy in her hands, fall to the ground next to her, and loosened her hair from the bun. 

She was still wearing the clothes given to her by the Resistance, now worn from being frequently used and washed. They had only brought with them what was most necessary, that not including extra clothing. 

She wore dark brown short leather boots that were as made for long walks in all types of terrain, a pair of trousers reaching just beneath her knees in a fading, light greyish colour, and a loose tunic the colour of light sand, tied with a belt around her waist. They weren’t the most flattering, nor the most significant clothes, but Rey felt extremely comfortable wearing it. On Jakku, she had only worn what was just available, something she could find or exchange for a portion at the Niima Outpost -- those few times she’d been able to spare some. She’d had to sometimes wrap any different textiles around her body, simply to cover her skin from the harsh sun while she worked in the desert. Wearing clothes that felt fresh and relatively new on her body was light and relieving.

Rey now pulled her left sleeve away from her shoulder, checking how it had reacted to being struck by the wooden stick earlier. She carefully touched the skin with her fingertips and winced by the small sting of pain in her sore shoulder. A bruise was already blossoming, colouring the skin violet. It would most likely increase to a dark purple during the night. 

Those small injuries she got during her training weren’t doing any harm. They were all small, insignificant things such as bruises and scratches, and nothing that wouldn’t heal over a couple of days. 

She automatically reached up to feel her side, just above the waist, where a bandage had covered her skin until very recently. The wound from the red lightsaber had healed completely by now, and it didn’t bother her the slightest when she trained or used her body in general. But when she touched her side, right at the spot where the blade had cut into her, she still felt a peculiar phantom of that burning pain, a distant echo of her wound. She tried to push away those memories from her mind.

Rey figured they couldn’t have spent more than a couple of days on Dagobah. But the days and nights on the secretive green planet had blurred into one another, making everything seem like it happened in a strange doze.

Luke had told her she had a strong control with the Force, but apparently, that wasn’t quite enough. He wanted to make her a warrior.

The Jedi were not principally made as warriors, as they were the makers and keepers of peace. However, it was still a great part of the Jedi’s abilities to fight in battles and duels; to manage the arts and techniques of the lightsaber, the ancient signature weapon of the Jedi.

A Force user’s way of fighting, Luke had told her, was practiced in connection with the Force, as everything else was too. A Jedi’s way of fighting depended not only on his skills in combat, but in how he used the Force to strengthen himself. To bring him concentration and focus in the midst of battle, to guide him and let the Force and the light work and shine out through the weapon itself. 

She had understood it when he told about it all -- but she realized now that she had never fully understood it, until now. Not until this day. This last fight.

Rey was not completely untrained when it came down to fighting small groups of beings. She’d had a reputation on Jakku as a fair fighter, someone that people with hostile minds wouldn’t like to encounter; the fierce scavenger girl with her quarter staff.

In order to give her endurance, to make her body stronger and more prepared for battle, Luke had sent her out on countless rounds in the area. Rounds where the changing, uneven terrain would force her to sometimes run, sometimes jump or climb different types of obstacles. It would all help, to build her strength, to give her more energy and concentration, as he said. While gaining physical control over her body, she would also gain an increased control of her mind, and improve her concentration. Only with a focused and clear mind, he had told, the Force would have room to guide her. Only then could she fully explore the possibilities, the nature of that ever moving, ever illuminating energy. 

The first part of her day consisted of that: of running and climbing, hiking and scouting the dense, misty forest. He would send her to check on the _Millennium Falcon_ at the place where they’d landed, not far away, or he would make her seek to different places in the close area, where, even though being relatively close to the clearing and the hut, she would find herself easily lost.

Not much sunlight ever reached down to the far undergrowth of the forest, and a constant dimness reigned under the tall trees. In that dimness, in a place Rey wasn’t very well known with, everything seemed the same. It wasn’t easy to figure out whether one was moving too far away from known land, or simply walking in circles. 

When the night started casting darkness over the forest, they would begin the combat training. At that time, Rey was usually exhausted in every limb of her body, but still she would manage to fight. Even though her body felt unbearably dull and tired every night, she never complained about the training. She wanted to push herself further, yes; sometimes Luke would even have to stop her from continuing, simply because it would be too much for her body to cope. What frustrated her was simple: the answer was time.

No matter how far away from everything she felt when being on Dagobah, she knew there was no point in concealing the truth from herself. That they were constantly battling time, and that every moment, something could change the situation drastically for all of them. She didn’t; there was a constant awareness in the back of her mind, a knowledge and concern about the state of everything. Since she had become so involved in the unfathomable _everything_ , she naturally thought and worried about it too. How was the Resistance doing? What were Finn, Poe and the others up to? Could they be in danger this very moment? 

What was the First Order doing -- what dark plans was Snoke secretly stringing together, she wondered… 

_And how would it involve his apprentice?_

Despite herself, despite everything, Rey thought about Leia Organa’s son -- and more often than not. At least they were just thoughts.

At least the voice inside her mind had fallen silent. For now.

One thing was for certain; no matter how much she trained to concentrate and calm her mind, the thoughts wouldn’t leave her as long as she was physically away -- from the conflict, even the midst of battle. It could not, and should not either, be different.

But that was one of the reasons Rey trained until she was nearly collapsing from exhaustion. The physical activity kept the thoughts spinning in her mind from overwhelming her completely. And most important of all, it gave her a precious feeling of actually doing something. She could feel how she was making progress, how she was growing stronger, gaining still more control. Would it only be enough.

She craned her neck, gazing at the darkening sky above where the moon was appearing.

Whenever the view to the skies of Dagobah was just slightly clear, it was a pure, astonishing treasure of starlight. When Rey looked farther, beyond the treetops under their misty veil, she felt as if the stars were alive; so close that they seemed within the reach of her bare hands, and yet so overwhelming and infinite.

She found the stars, though farther away than she could imagine, to be dancing in flickers of light, always existing in their own, distant way. Never to be drowned by the bleak, constant darkness surrounding them, at all times, and everywhere. 

Some things would never fade. Some things were meant to keep on living, no matter the trials and harshness of that life. Surrounded by eternal darkness, one had to simply endure -- and at all times, carry a sparkle of starlight.

_______________________________

Rey sighed and rose to her feet, picking up the wooden stick, which she had tossed away earlier. Though still feeling warm after the training, she felt the temperature beginning to fall with the night’s come and knew she ought to get back to the clearing and the hut. 

For that wasn’t the place in which she was now standing. Luke had chosen another place, not far away, for her training; a smaller clearing in the forest that was almost a perfect, rounded circle, surrounded by walls of the tall trees that kept away the fog, making it lighter. However, the fog was getting denser in the late hour, also filling up the clearing with a light mist, which now swirled close to the ground in whorls around Rey’s feet as she made her way back.

She reached the larger clearing and stopped for a moment before entering the hut.

A light from the fireplace lit up the room with a calm glow and shone through the holes serving as windows. Though far too small and certainly not built for humans, the hut was beginning to seem almost like a home. It was a safe place, a place that provided them with shelter and warmth, and that was all Rey could have asked for. And it was also surprisingly well-equipped -- it even had a functioning refresher.

After all, she had lived in stranger places over the time. Living the majority of her life with a fallen AT-AT as her best home, she had to have acquired an ability to make most places seem worthy of a place to live.

Now she ducked her head and stepped through the door opening, met by the scent of burning wood, and leaned her stick against the wall.

Lightsabers were the main weapon of any Force user, as it had been for many generations, and the wooden sticks admittedly gave a sad impression of a real weapon. But it was the best things they had, as they couldn’t very well use real sabers for training. Rey had been doubtful at first, suspicious by the thought of using simple wooden sticks to imitate lightsabers, but now she realized it had probably been a great idea.

To be completely honest; if they had been fighting with real weapons, she would have lost the majority of her limbs by now. 

Her master was sitting on one of the low stools by the open fireplace, his back turned to the entrance. 

“How are you?” Luke said, still not turning. Rey couldn’t figure out whether it was just a simple question in kindness, about how she felt after the long training, or if it reached deeper than that -- to how she felt about, well, everything.

“I’m fine,” she ended up saying. “I am. But also… frustrated.” At least that was the simplest truth.

Luke now turned around to face her, a light question on his face.

“You shouldn’t be. You’ve accomplished much in short time. That is something to be proud of.”

Rey thought he knew perfectly well that it wasn’t just the training that concerned her, but rather _everything_ that was going on -- things that they couldn’t possibly know about. However, that was obviously not what he saw fitting to talk about now.

He continued calmly, “During the short time you’ve had to train, you have improved yourself more than I could have hoped for. And you have endurance, which makes you an excellent fighter. From now on, time will only make you even better.”

She knew it was probably true, though it didn’t quite justify her number of lost fights during the combat training. One of the days, she hadn’t been able to hold back her confusion -- _If you say there is no more you can teach me of the Jedi ways… Then why all this?_ \-- to which he’d only replied: “I told you there is no more for _me_ to teach you. Now, you will have to discover the secrets of the Force on your own. Though, of course, I can still help you a little along the way.”

She supposed that made sense.

There was that last fight, though; the time when she’d thought she finally understood the meaning of it all. But if the memory, that feeling of lightness had shone through, it was quickly shoved down by darker thoughts.

“I am not strong enough. And I won’t have the needed time to become strong enough,” she said suddenly. Luke opened his mouth but she did not give him time to speak. 

“There will be a time where I’ll have to face him again,” she said, her heart clenching painfully; there was no mistaking who she meant. “It is unavoidable. I won our first duel, but only because he was badly injured, there is no other explanation, nor reason. And the last time, when I fought against him during the attack of the D’Qar base, he was overwhelmingly powerful… I could do nothing but evade and draw back, all the while.” 

She broke herself off, taking a deep breath.

Luke sat quietly, and the silence was inscrutable so she could do nothing but wait. Then he gestured with his hand, a sign for her to sit down. She did.

His gaze had once again disappeared into the dancing fire, the warm glow and the multi-coloured sparks, going from deep red to the brightest golden and white. It was the only source of light left, as the darkness of the night outside was now complete and nearly impenetrable. The stars that had previously lit up the evening sky with their glow were now covered by a veil of clouds, colouring the night charcoal black. 

“You are expecting too much of yourself,” said Luke, turning his head to face her. “No one should ever have to complete their training in such a rush. But these are not normal circumstances. We are in times of war, and everything has to happen faster and more urgently. Nothing can prepare us for what the future will bring.”

He paused for a moment, and Rey remained silent, assured that her master would have more to say.

“Ben was one of the most talented boys I ever trained,” said Luke. “He had a natural ability of using the Force -- he could not only command it, or shape it; he might have been able to create extraordinary things with it, had his mind not been so conflicted, destroying.

“And he was a warrior too, talented with a lightsaber, undefeatable in battle. He had everything required to become a powerful Jedi Knight. He would have been nearly invincible…

“But was it the light of a soul that created such things?” he murmured, and Rey wasn’t sure whether he was now talking more to himself than to her. “The light of the living… or the spark of another power…?”

Luke smiled, but it was a faint, joyless smile that did not reach his eyes. “In the end, it was his mind that deceived him. He was powerful, but there was always a great darkness in him, in his mind. A darkness that has over long time been exploited, his power corrupted, by Snoke as well as himself.”

_By the dark side._

Rey tried to picture the dark Knight as how he had been, before the great change had happened, the one that had turned everything upside down. It was not difficult for her.

A young boy surrounded by caring people, remaining ever silent, lost to what was going on inside him. Lonely and quiet, vulnerable to people with more power trying to take advantage of the weakness in his unprotected and conflicted mind… And no one would have noticed the difference, the slow change in him, because it was all something that happened inside him, until the day had come when he’d finally unleashed it all upon them…

She saw the image, clearly as though from a memory.

_Tall and dark haired_ , she thought. _Lonely eyes. Lost eyes._

She saw a pair of deep umber eyes as from her own memory – and they were so brilliant, they were so close to hers, and the look of them was an inscrutable mystery… She felt the heat of a body against hers that was so human, and she saw on his face the mirror of a darkness that was more human still.

Before, she hadn't voiced the other thoughts out loud; that if it came down to the two of them, fighting each other in the end, she wasn't sure she would be able to do it.

_Could I ever achieve such power?_ she wondered, from a strange curiosity rather than hopelessness. _Could I ever learn to control it? With so little time?_

As if Luke had heard her thoughts, he said calmly, “The question is not one of physical strength, nor of ruthlessness and brutality in battle. Because that is nothing of significance compared to the Force. 

“You must never give in to fear or anger, for that is a darkness that will make you act recklessly, make you unable to think clearly. There is a fine line between victory and loss… And true victory is rarely claimed. Eventually, the only thing you may have left, is your belief. Trust the light -- do not let go of it.”

He fell silent for a brief moment, then added, softly, “Trust the Force. If nothing else.”

There was a sudden rustle of sound from the fireplace, small pieces of burned wood falling apart, and Rey watched the playful flames whirl around one another and dissolve into bursts of sparks. 

For that moment being, she would let herself become reassured, as that was clearly how Luke was trying to make her feel. She allowed herself to look into the fire, the only source of light in that soft dimness inside, caused by an all-encompassing night, and she allowed herself to be calm and think her own ferocious thoughts. Even the hopeful ones; simple, daring thoughts of hope for the future. To let herself think they might actually have a chance, whatever vague it seemed; believe it even. 

To think that _she_ might have a chance. 

There was no time for self-doubt, Rey acknowledged that. She was a hope, and not just a hope for herself, not anymore, however difficult that was for her to fathom. That was the choice she’d made when she had chosen to fight.

That hope and that faith -- both so crucial, delicate things.

Luke spoke again, and Rey turned her head to face him. 

“You have fought with the wooden sticks for some time. As much as they do well in simple training, it’s not quite the same as wielding a real weapon.”

She nodded in agreement and thought for a moment of her own lightsaber.

No, not hers, she corrected herself; Luke’s. Even though he had his other, green bladed weapon, the blue lightsaber truly belonged to him -- to the Skywalkers. 

_So truly, it would now belong to Ben_ , an unwelcome voice whispered in her head.

Passed from Anakin Skywalker to his son before it had vanished, only for herself to discover it, deep down beneath Maz’ domain. She had found it ready for her use, just as she had found herself in need of a weapon. It had served its cause fully. It was the saber that had provoked the visions of the Force inside her mind from a simple touch, as the beginning of an unveiling long awaited, the revelation of the true powers she wielded. 

The lightsaber. She had brought it along with her when she fled the First Order fortress, all the time hidden in her boot. Her thoughts went back to the fleet’s arrival on Dantooine, to her first reunion with her master. 

Luke had asked for the lightsaber, and Rey had handed it to him without objection. It was unlikely that she would be in urgent need of a weapon, if they were allowed to hope for any kind of luck. 

Her master had taken the weapon, and from that moment, Rey had not seen a glimpse of it. Either Luke was carrying it himself, for safe keeping, or he had send it of somewhere far away; somewhere it might have a chance of being forgotten, lost to evanescence. She thought of the latter, and figured it would perhaps be for the best. The blue lightsaber had a long story, and it was up to Luke to decide whether its time had come to go. 

Maybe it would later find a way to return, at a time where there was the most urgent need for it. Maybe then, it would find yet another aspiring Force user and guide his first steps.

She had made her own speculations about a weapon, of course she had. One thing was certain. At some point, probably sooner than later, she would be in need of one. A real weapon that would serve her in fights, battles and other situations where her old combat stick from Jakku could no longer qualify.

She trusted Luke. She thought he, of all people, would know what he was doing. When the time came he would not leave her defenseless. If it would not be the blue lightsaber, it would be something different of sorts.

_Something different of sorts._

A weapon, and a true one.

“As you probably know, lightsabers are the ancient weapon of all Force users,” Luke continued. “The Jedi have wielded lightsabers for many ages. So has the Sith, who forced the kyber crystals and recreated the weapons for their own use. The saber can be strengthened through the Force, and the Force can be made to glow through the blade itself. It all depends on the powers of the Force user who wields it.”

Rey listened closely, slightly impatiently awaiting. Her master had told her all of this before, these precious bits of knowledge about the Force, those who wielded it, and their weapons, too.

She knew there had to be a special reason for him to repeat it now, and she soon found out what.

“Every Jedi shall have a lightsaber,” said Luke. “And preferably a lightsaber constructed with their own hands, a personal weapon that speaks and serves to them, first of all.”

“A lightsaber they _make_ themselves?”

He looked at her directly, his expression calm but focused. “You can always wield any lightsaber for your need. The weapon may serve you well whether it is personally constructed or not. But it is a long tradition among the Jedi for the apprentice to construct her own lightsaber when her master believes it the right time.”

Until then, she had not asked any questions about the blue lightsaber or its whereabouts. Luke had not mentioned it -- and now she realized why. Where it was now, in whose hands, did not matter anymore. 

The old Skywalker lightsaber might have found her and called to her, might have helped her along the way. But it was not Rey’s entirely, and she thought it never would have become that way. 

She was meant to have a new weapon entirely. A different one -- one that would belong to her alone.

“If I should construct a lightsaber of my own…” Rey said, still not sure she would fathom the meaning of it entirely.

There was a small twist in the corner of Luke’s mouth, what appeared as a faint smile. “It will mark you as having finished your essential training as a Jedi. A Jedi’s training never truly ends, as you know. But construct your own lightsaber, and you will be one step closer on your way. I believe the time is right. There is nothing more I can teach you.”

He paused thoughtfully, then added: “You would now be entitled as a Jedi Knight, as right should be. However, I am not sure how necessary such titles are as the Jedi Order no longer exists.”

_Jedi Knight_. The ancient Jedi Order might have been gone, and they might have been the only Jedi left in the entire galaxy. But those words -- the title -- still felt new and satisfying on Rey’s tongue. 

They tasted of meaning, of depth; something that might not be palpable to others. 

But she knew their meaning. 

_There is nothing more for me to teach you_. She was trained now, or at least as much as unusual circumstances would allow, and she could only hope that it would be enough for her to meet whatever waited ahead. She had completed her training as a Jedi Knight.

No, she corrected herself, not completed. No one could ever _complete_ one’s training and knowledge of the Force. It would be to presume that strange, illuminating energy to be finite, and finite was the last thing it could be. If there was something Rey was beginning to understand, it was that the nature of the Force -- mysterious, changing and unpredictable -- was infinite. 

“There is one crucial component in the making of a lightsaber,” Luke said. “One that you must discover on your own. Close your eyes, and look deep within yourself.”

_How do I know what to look for?_ she thought, and as if Luke had heard her, he said, “You will know what it is when you find it.”

And so she did as he said. She closed her eyes, and tried to shut herself away from the reality around her, so that for once she was not searching outwards, but inwards. 

She found that what she was sensing was dim, dark and inscrutable as the night outside. And yet, after a few moments, she saw it. Or rather, felt it. It was a sudden spark; a faint glimmer of light in the landscape of shadows, slowly growing brighter.

Her heart beating a frantic rhythm of joy, Rey said, “I know where it is.”

She opened her eyes, and found Luke smiling.

“Well done,” he said. “Is it close?”

“Yes,” she said, breathlessly. She was practically sizzling, eager to jump to her feet and be on her way.

His expression brightened. “Then it is as I anticipated. As I hoped. Well,” he added, “why don’t you go and find it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> Please consider leaving some feedback.


	20. The Strongest Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They were opposites, and they were equals. They were apart, and they were in union.
> 
> They were whole.

The darkness couldn’t reach her.

As Rey walked through the forest of Dagobah in the thick night, the light she’d sensed kept glowing, always at the edge of her senses, guiding her way.

She thought that, now that she’d found it, it was as though the little dot of brightness had moved to exist _inside_ her -- perhaps resting somewhere near her heart, hidden and protected in the mishmash of lungs and heart and ribcage, a complicated maze of veins and arteries. Perhaps it had always been there, simply waiting for her to discover it.

All she knew was that even the all-encompassing darkness didn’t matter. It wouldn’t have mattered the slightest, had she been completely blind. 

The darkness might black out the stars, but she followed the glow of a star she sensed existed just for her.

She made her way through the night-swathed forest, and eventually she reached a point that spoke _This is the place_.

She halted, and looked.

Before her was the entrance to a cave. Or at least, that was what she could make out from what little was visible through the dense dark. In this lighting, the dark mouth of the cave looked, truly, like a mouth; a gaping pit of blackness waiting to swallow her whole.

Nevertheless, this was where her glow had led her.

Without hesitating, all her senses alert, she walked through the opening.

The cave was surprisingly deep. Placed in the hollow of a hill side, Rey soon felt that she had moved far away from the open forest outside; deep down into a place that might have been kept secret to the universe at large. Desolate, abandoned, undiscovered. Its secret would be for her to unravel. 

Following the underground passage, she found that it suddenly began to grow larger, slowly widening into what must be the actual cave. It ended in a crook a little farther ahead, and she discovered with awe that a faint, bluish light seemed to glow from the place. At last she reached the end of the passage, and followed the pale blue light into the depths of the cave.

When she turned at the end, awed by the sudden size of the cave, the ceiling of which seemed so high above it was veiled in shadows, it didn’t take long for her to discover the source of that glow. This, she felt, was also as far as her little inner star would take her.

Although most of the cave, and the passage that led to it, was cast in thick darkness, down here was a single bright source of light. The blue light, Rey quickly saw, came from the crystal.

There were other crystals down here but the one, she sensed it clearly; but just as soon as she discovered that, she realized this was the only one visible to her eyes. It was also the only one that was --

She held back a gasp as the astonishing realization dawned. It was also the only crystal that… _existed for her_.

A thing that spoke to her senses, and to her alone.

Carefully, lightly, she stepped closer.

The crystal was set into the rocky wall of the cave, from where it emitted its pale, bright light. From up close, on the outside, it looked like any other crystal; small, barely an inch in length, its edges rough and unpolished. Except, of course, she had never seen any other crystal emit a glow like this. Its light was strange -- it didn’t seem to be casting any shadows, and it was soft, as though the darkness surrounding it was dimming like a mist; yet as she stepped closer, it immediately enveloped her with its glow. 

Slowly, instinctively, Rey reached out her hand. As her fingers closed delicately around the crystal, she was surprised by its temperature; it was not hard and cold, but lukewarm, as though it was truly a living thing. The radiant light still spilled from it, glowing through the cracks between her fingers. 

She let out a sigh, and closed her eyes. Not to her surprise, she could still feel the energy of the crystal, so much more powerful than she had ever felt from other inanimate objects. Her eyes closed, all her other senses aware, she could hear what seemed as faint sounds coming from the crystal as well, like whispers.

Slowly, she rose to her feet, and turned to carry her crystal back to the clearing, and to Luke.

__________________________________

“Well?” he asked, as she stepped inside the warmth of the hut. “How did it go?”

As a response, Rey held out her hand to show the crystal resting on her palm. In the soft light inside, the crystal still appeared to shine as brightly.

Luke smiled, and gestured for her to sit.

It was with a mixture of both parts awe and eager anticipation that she waited, her mouth sealed in silence, as her master moved to a hidden alcove in the opposite wall, and produced from the space two objects, both wrapped in pieces of rough cloth.

He kneeled down, placing the objects on the stamped clay floor between them. Then he started folding the things out of the cloth one by one.

The two packages appeared to contain mostly the same… something Rey couldn’t quite identify at first. 

Laid out next to each other, with the pieces of cloth as a protection from the bare floor, they looked nothing special in particular -- and yet there was something well known about them that she recognized. The unmistakable grace and elegance of a weapon. They were approximately six to seven inches each, sleek and simple looking by design. The colour of the two pieces was golden with slight notes of copper, and the calmly dancing flames from the close fireplace reflected in the blank surface of the metallic material. 

Rey thought they looked not quite… whole. Their edges were cracked, uncompleted, as if they were two parts of the same piece.

Maybe the two parts of a handle.

Rey reached out curiously, wanting to take one of the pieces in her hand and examine it further. The metal was cool and smooth to the touch, opposite to the surface of the glowing crystal. As she got to look closer, she saw that the handle pieces’ design was in fact anything but simple -- that beneath the smooth surface, the pieces were constructed into several chambers and little mechanisms that looked intricate even to her.

“Those parts are essential, but not the ones of true importance,” Luke said. “They are but the simple exterior shell to protect the heart of the weapon.”

He gestured, and she carefully placed the crystal -- her crystal -- on the cloth next to the pieces.

She thought no one who could sense it would now take it for being just an ordinary crystal. The look of it alone, but also the radiant energy it seemed to emit, gave away that this thing could only be described as… _unique_.

Its shapes were many, asymmetrical and unpolished. That was not what appeared so special about it. 

The colour of the crystal was light. Or at least that was the first thought to enter Rey’s mind. It was a pale color, yet it was not cold. It was bright and clear, like the first rays of light on a winter morning. Yet it was warm, and it was alive. 

Its many facets now blazed with a light so bright it could not only come from the spared light source that was the fireplace, but had to come from somewhere else that could only be itself. Or perhaps something that existed _inside_ it, hidden in its very heart.

Luke cleared his voice and she looked up from the fascinating thing. “I suppose you have guessed by now the purpose of these things.”

And so she figured she had, but it still seemed rather unbelievable. She glanced down to the metallic parts at her feet. The two parts of the handle to a weapon. The glowing crystal, the heart. They already seemed beckoning to her, the crystal most of all.

“How did you get these?” she asked, referring to the parts of the handle.

His blue gaze met hers. “I have been collecting the pieces for this handle over some time. I meditated, some time ago, and sensed it was the right moment. I also sensed that this might be where you’d have the greatest chance of finding a crystal meant for you. All these components are as strong as they can be. Once you assemble them, they will become a fine and powerful weapon.”

He fell silent for a moment, his eyes thoughtful. 

“You were taken by the First Order,” he said calmly. “You were at the mercy of Kylo Ren and his master. Though my hopes allowed me to believe you would make it, I didn’t allow myself to feel sure. We could only hope. And you showed yourself more than worthy of that hope and trust.”

His praise of her touched Rey unexpectedly. Not easily granted, she knew the deepest honesty in his words, and not for the first time this day she allowed herself to be reassured. If Luke thought her worthy of his hope, if they all did, she wanted to prove it true. Her training in the Force, the trials she had gone through till this moment -- that those efforts had not been for nothing.

And soon, she would have a weapon. A weapon created with the power of hope.

“What is left to be done is yours to do,” Luke said. “You must reach out with your mind, to see. Use the Force, and make contact with the crystal itself. Empower it, and it will become one with the weapon. A weapon that will serve you, and strengthen you as your ability with the Force will strengthen the weapon in return.”

He placed himself in a sitting position on the bare floor; his legs crossed, and made a sign for Rey to do the same. Remaining quiet, she followed his instruction and sat down across from her master with her own legs crossed over each other. The position seemed strained at first, but after she’d arranged her legs in the right way, it felt in fact rather comfortable.

“Close your eyes,” said Luke.

Rey did so, breathing slowly as darkness settled behind her closed eyelids. It felt like meditating, she thought, clearing her mind of everything unnecessary while still searching for something -- she wasn’t sure quite what it was. 

In that darkness, shut away from what happened outside of herself, she found that her mind became both open and calm surprisingly quickly. She did not know if it was because of the true, important moment she found herself in, if it was her all of her concentrated training that finally gave away some use and purpose, or if it was simply because of this place, at this time -- this faraway planet with its stillness and purity and dark nights. The clouds and concealing fog had abated, she sensed, and the darkness that had moments earlier seemed impenetrable when she walked in the midst of it was now interrupted by the dim light of the moon, and the stars scattered across the night sky. 

Now Rey sensed something different, a slight change. A presence before her, but it was not the usual presence she felt around living beings.

It was the crystal.

It was not that the object itself was _alive_. It was filled by an energy, perhaps a trace of another spirit or presence. 

And it whispered to her. It told of goodness and greatness, but it was a selfless greatness, to the benefit of others. It told of light; a light so warm and bright and all encompassing; a light of such sorts that could drive out any darkness, that would make the bearer of it glow from within. Such light that would shine out through even the smallest cracks, whose rays would touch people’s very souls and affect them, unavoidably and definitely.

Light, although there was also more. Other things, and stranger, but not necessarily hostile.

Rey now sensed another thing, too. A sensation of some sort of connection, a bond between two… Two objects? No, they were souls and they were alive.

The souls and minds of two beings blurring together, as if their edges were softened and smudged into one another. 

She wasn’t quite sure if it was just a simple feeling, a creation of her imagination, or if it was something more than that. A vision. Though the figures never fully appeared as images for her to recognize, they had begun to take shape.

They were light, and they were darkness. They were neither, and they were both. One of them seemed lost, hidden behind a veil of shadows. But even now, she saw threads of light peering in, winding through the shadows; the light that shone through every crack.

The other was bright and glowing; a warm soul of light, but it didn’t leave out darkness completely. There were shadows threaded through the brightness, and they were the natural shades of darkness that colours every living thing. A crucial darkness, that makes the light in a person shine even brighter by comparison, that makes us human.

They were bonded, the two souls, of that Rey was certain. She could feel them, both of them, through this vision; and they filled her with a joy, along with such inexplicable grief. They were bittersweet tears of happiness and sorrow. 

She watched as they whirled around one another and came together at last. She watched as they were infinitely entwined with each other and affected by each other. As if it was simply fated to be that way, and could not be avoided.

The shadows of darkness were made to retreat and give way for that glow that would envelop both figures. It did not happen without resistance and battle. She watched as they fought each other, fought themselves; defeated one another and then, at last, rebuilt one another -- neither could do without the other, and neither could exist apart. In this moment, it seemed plainly obvious to her. They were opposites, and they were equals. They were apart, and they were in union. 

They were whole.

Bewildered by what she had seen, or rather felt, Rey strived to regain her focus. Meanwhile, the vision cracked and fell apart, and changed yet again to something different.

She sensed the crystal once again, and its light and brilliance once more struck her with astonishment. Instinctively she opened her eyes to witness the sight not being any less astounding.

The crystal, as well as the parted handle, had been raised from the ground by an unseen force, and lay now in the air between her master and herself, vibrating slightly. The light from the fireplace seemed to have abated to a few disappearing sparks compared to the blazing light source that was the crystal, shining like a miniature sun in the room. Its multi-facetted surface cast a thousand reflections on the two persons sitting there, and on the walls that surrounded them. Rey watched Luke sitting across from her, his eyes fixed on her.

Her gaze never left the objects hanging in the air, and now her full concentration regarded the crystal in the middle. In a brief moment it seemed that time itself was shivering, waiting to pass, as the air became electric with the conviction that _something_ was about to happen.

The moment passed, and Rey held her breath as all three objects began to move. The light in the room started to decrease as the two parts of the handle moved towards each other, and closed the crystal within them. Their edges fit together, like two parts of a puzzle, and they forged into one, encapsulating the crystal as its glowing heart.

When it was finished, the now completed handle hung still in the air. Instinctively, Rey reached out to take it.

The golden handle was long and slender, and perfectly fitted in size for her hands. Like the crystal itself, it felt not cold, as one might expect, but tepid and somehow still vivid. Though the crystal was now sealed inside the weapon and no longer visible, the handle seemed to cast a subtle glow, a light that came from within. 

Likely, not much time had passed, but Rey was unable to tell. It felt as if silence had reigned for ages when Luke broke the quiet.

“Ignite the saber,” he said simply.

She pressed a switch on the top part of the handle that she hadn’t noticed until now, and a long, thin blade the colour of sunlight ignited from it. 

The electric field of energy around the lightsaber was so intense it made her hair frizz around her face, and Rey watched her golden blade of light as it lit up, in the midst of the dark and shadows of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I may have altered some things about the construction of the lightsaber, but this was how I felt it fit best into my story.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Any feedback is much appreciated. <3


	21. The Travelers

The morning was early and the air was crisp. Rey breathed it in, and felt renewed. The air in the forest was so much different from the desert air she had breathed most of her life; it was vibrant and cooling and so _full_. Every breath tasted like something; like moisture, forest, earth and rain, and it felt nothing like the dry warmth that had spiced the atmosphere of the desert world.

She had woken early, the night still lingering at the edge of dawn, and she had quietly risen from her sleeping place at the fire, careful not to disturb her master in his sleep, and ducked through the tiny doorway to get outside.

Her steps spontaneously led her into the forest -- the little piece of the forest that she had begun to feel quite familiar with, at least so she wouldn’t find herself completely lost -- and she walked among the dense growth of peculiar trees and crooked plants, moving in the direction of the _Millennium Falcon_. 

The air was thick with the constant fog, not often being disturbed and dissolved by sunlight, and the misty white substance smudged out the figures and sharp figures and contours of the forest, made everything seem blurred and soft edged. 

Her lightsaber was at her side, tucked into her belt. It was there, and it brought with it a comforting feeling. Always at her side where she could easily reach it, it was a true weapon.

And it was _hers_.

Rey still found the thought quite unfathomable, and in those moments, when she suddenly _realized_ , it filled her from the inside with dancing sparks of delight.

The silence was only briefly broken when she stepped on dry branches or leaves. The undergrowth consisted of that, and also of the dark, muddy ground underneath it, and the crooked and twisted roots shooting out from the feet of the tallest trees. The place was an easy trap for creatures unaware of those obstacles on the ground, and along with the uneven rustles of sounds from smaller creatures, the forest would seem a dark, unwelcoming place for many visitors. Not for Rey though, not anymore. Becoming familiar with the area meant also getting used to those sounds, and to all the things hidden in the mist. It felt no longer unsettling to her, but simply a part of the atmosphere of the planet. This place was a living thing, and while some of its secrets were laid out in the open to discover, many more were hidden, far away from the eyes of ordinary beings.

Rey wondered while she wandered. She tried to recall the vision from the night before, discovering the sight still being freshly clear in her mind, and not at all faded during the night. She saw it all; the two figures of light and dark standing out. 

That feeling of joy and warmth, so inevitably tangled with grief -- what did it all truly _mean_?

All she knew was that the crystal that now served as the heart of her lightsaber had provoked something -- whatever kind of vision it might be.

The object had somehow made her gaze turn inwards, seeing not something of the outside world, but of herself. Not that the latter seemed any less puzzling and mystical.

Those figures of light and darkness… They _meant_ something, of that Rey was certain. They held truths, were a sign of something. They were crucial, important, for reasons she didn’t know to unravel… 

Although maybe she did sense an overwhelming and shattering truth, deep inside -- maybe some part of her wondered, and remembered; something like a whisper of the past.

She felt _drawn_ to them -- a strange and unfamiliar longing. The more she thought about it, the more she yearned for the answers -- 

It was so infinitely conflicting -- how she yearned to know for sure, yet dreaded the deep and shattering truth.

A truth she might already have begun to know; yet by some instinct concealing the answer for herself. 

Perhaps the answers she sought would all show by themselves, with time. That was what she thought to calm herself, anyway.

If there was something she was, at least, beginning to learn and understand, it was that things like answers tend to show up when you need them, and not necessarily until then. Especially those that involved the Force.

_But doesn’t everything?_ she thought for herself, and let her gaze follow the treetops up toward the sky. 

Returning to the present, outside world that was the forests of Dagobah, Rey stepped out into the clearing where they’d first landed, and where the _Millennium Falcon_ still stood, untouched, on the small piece of land that reached out as an island in the swampy lake. As before, when catching sight of the ship, Rey felt a surge of relief. She didn’t quite know the source of her concerns. There could hardly be anything out here to do damage to the ship, could there?

Still, Rey had gained a special fondness of the ship, and because Han was no longer here to take care of it, she felt somehow responsible in his place.

She quickly strode across the tiny piece of land that connected island and shore across the dark swamp. The muddy piece of land was veiled in the increasing mist, and white swirls of fog rose upwards, enveloping the grey figure of the freighter. Instinctively she walked closer and reached out to rest her hand on the ship’s side. She moved her gaze, eyeing the uninviting dark water around her, as well as the trees surrounding it. Everything seemed perfectly calm and idyllic -- in the secretive, Dagobah kind of way. An occasional rustle of sound from the forest, a creature circling in the air above the treetops, a flicker of movement under the dark surface of the water… It was all normal, natural, and it didn’t disturb her senses.

The next sound that came, however, was equally disturbing and unnatural, and the _wrongness_ of it left a coppery aftertaste in her mouth, like blood and thunderstorms.

It made her whole body tense with caution. An odd sensation of wrongness, vague, but still not to be ignored. Suddenly aware of every small sound, every movement in the landscape around her, Rey listened. 

There it was, again.

She whirled around, and her eye fell on a strangeness that certainly didn’t fit in naturally to its surroundings.

It wasn’t that odd really, but it still seemed misplaced, standing on the small island next to the _Falcon_. It had to be some droid of sorts, but it was not a model she was acquainted with. She didn’t think so, at least. Frowning, she tried to search her memory for something of this kind.

It consisted of a large, box-shaped ‘body’, with several thin legs protruding from it, reaching towards the ground. It was pitch black and glistening, and rather insect like in appearance. Its long legs didn’t reach the ground but rose a few inches above it, and the black droid hovered in the air, vibrating and producing a low, buzzing noise -- as if it was humming a dissonant tune.

It had a single eye in the middle of its body, and its gaze seemed to be pointed towards the freighter. A sharp, rhythmic beeping came from the droid with short intervals. Rey strived to remain perfectly silent; her senses all open and aware, every nerve in her body jolted alerted to the possible threat. She didn’t know if it was accidental when the droid’s single eye suddenly rotated and turned, catching sight of the human standing few meters away.

Alarmed -- or maybe excited, Rey couldn’t tell -- the droid’s beeps intensified and grew louder, frantically analyzing and taking data of the human being before it. Bewildered, Rey tried to recognize its code of communication, but she never seemed to have heard any droid speak that way. She couldn’t tell what they droid was processing, what messages it was sending. 

And to whom? 

Where did it come from, and how had it come to this place?

Her mind could only think of one option, and it was one that appeared to be true. 

Before the fact could have time to alarm her further, the probe droid went abruptly quiet. It hung perfectly still in the air for a moment -- before it was suddenly blown to fragments by an explosion.

Rey recoiled from the sudden pressure of air surging towards her, and she flung up her hands to cover her ears from the deafening sound. Slowly gathering herself, she stared at the remaining parts of the droid, now reduced to tiny black pieces scattered all over the area. It could only have been a self-detonation, a coded precaution in the droid that prevented strangers from extracting any information from it. 

Whatever coded message it had been transmitting, it was now too late to prevent it. At this point, the signals were likely to have reached its point of origin already.

To have reached the First Order. Or other individual organizations, who could only be enemies.

Wherever it came from, Rey wasn’t going to wait for its fellows to arrive. She turned abruptly and ran, forcing her way through the dense forest with an impressive new speed not only caused by adrenaline.

She reached the clearing sooner than she realized. Luke was standing outside the small hut in the early morning. He stood turned away from where she was approaching, gazing away into the unknown lands laying in the opposite direction. 

Rey came to a halt so sudden that she skidded and nearly slipped on the muddy ground, just few feet away from her master. He was already turning to face her, as if he’d felt her presence before he heard her coming, and watched her with curiosity.

Rey gathered herself -- her chest heaving -- and told him about the phenomenon she had discovered at the location of the _Falcon_. And the more she got hold of her stirring thoughts, the darker and grimmer her thoughts became.

Whatever the reason, the droid -- and the ones who had sent it -- must have been searching for them. It was the only answer -- the only possible reason.

“It’s the First Order,” she said at last. “It must be. They’ve found us.”

Luke frowned, his face as grim as she felt. “I think you’re right. I believed this place to be safer than any. Apparently I was wrong.”

_No places are safe anymore_ , she thought. 

“Snoke has had more plans stirring than we ever expected, all along,” Luke said. “And more than anything, he wants to wipe out the greatest threat that right now exists to oppose him.”

_The Jedi_. Of course, Rey thought. The Supreme Leader wouldn’t allow such a threat to continue to exist. If any Force sensitive was free in the galaxy, who was not on his side, Snoke would want them wiped from existence. Unless, of course, they could be turned to follow his cause. 

Luke had a haunted look of concern in his eyes. “I just thought we would have more time…” he said softly, mostly to himself.

“So what now?” Rey said sharply. “If the reconnaissance droid belonged to the First Order, they’ll know our location by now.”

“True,” Luke said plainly. “There’s no moment to spare. We must leave.”

He’d barely stopped speaking before a sound from above tore a rift in the silence that usually enveloped the planet. They both looked up instinctively and saw first one, then three and then, at last, an entire squadron of black First Order TIE fighters filling the sky. Rey felt her heart beating as though it had climbed all the way to her throat. 

“Go.” It came from Luke, the word spoken sharply. It left no room for argument. She stood immobile for a brief moment, until at last, her mind reacted to what her every instinct screamed at her. _Run_.

She turned on her heel and bolted, back into the forest, with the light-footed speed of a _varactyl_ , quickly and surely passing the obstacles of the forest floor.

She turned her head and saw her master, who was already running at her side, just as fast. He didn’t seem at all troubled by the dense growth of tress among which they were moving, and his steps were surprisingly light and untroubled. 

_To the Falcon_ , her mind chanted. _To the Falcon._

Then they would be able to escape. 

She continued the way she was headed, already in the direction of the ship. The screaming sound of engines from the fighters above was increasing, as if continuously more were joining. Rey judged by the noise that they were flying low -- but they didn’t seem to land, nor did she see or hear any blasts from the fighters’ canons. It was as if they were simply circling in the air --

Waiting for something. Like a trap, waiting to shut and lock them in place. 

_How will we ever get away?_ she wondered hopelessly. _They are everywhere._

“How quickly will we be able to jump to hyperspace?” Luke called.

“We can’t jump directly from the atmosphere -- it would be too risky before I can get a clear overview,” she shouted back. Where can we go? she thought, then got hold of herself. The most crucial thing in the moment was to escape. As soon as they were safely in hyperspace, they could speculate about what to do next. 

She was trying to assure herself they would make it so far.

“I’ll have to outmaneuver them in the air. We’ll find an opening in their defense, or we’ll make one.” Though, casting a quick glance skywards, an opening large enough for them to get through relatively unscathed did not seem to exist. The large group of TIEs were still waiting, circling above the treetops.

At last, Luke and Rey reached the misty clearing where Rey had found the droid earlier that morning. The _Falcon_ lay still untouched on its island surrounded by dark water, which seemed to be their only luck. The First Order had not yet had the chance to blow the freighter into pieces of debris, which would have cut off their only escape. 

They soon got the ramp to the ship lowered, and they both hurried in.

Rey immediately headed towards the cockpit while calling over her shoulder, “Take the gunner’s position -- we might need fire to hold them off.”

Luke was already moving towards the lower part of the freighter, to the gunner’s seat. His casual certainty did its part as to calm her, just a little.

Having reached the cockpit, Rey flung herself into the pilot’s seat, already tapping a number of switches on the panels with an aura of experience and control. _And yet again, flying with no co-pilot_ , she thought with a sigh, before pulling a single handle in front of her. The ship responded to her action by giving a loud metallic sigh, the old parts creaking as its engines slowly flared to life.

Dazed as always by the ease with which the Corellian freighter moved, even after countless years of use, Rey looked out through the front glass as they rose from the ground and up above the trees.

Up in the higher atmosphere of Dagobah, chaos seemed to have erupted in the sky. Wherever her gaze went, it met jet black fighters filling the sky, around them and above them. Rey had made sure to activate the _Falcon’s_ shields, hoping it would protect the ship, but when the they showed, the First Order did not react as she’d expected. 

She had been prepared to dodge laser blasts coming from every direction. She had imagined clearly, during those few frantic moments, what she was going to do once they took off.

She would continue to fly upwards until they got rid of the squadron, then maybe first when they left the atmosphere of Dagobah, maybe sooner, if possible without any fatal collisions, she would jump to hyperspace and they’d be gone. Well, _if_ they should succeed in freeing themselves of the TIEs, _if_ Luke could fire back and hopefully blast a few of them on their way, and if the shields on the _Falcon_ would hold.

The squadron was more synchronized, and more predicting than so. They didn’t fire a single blast against the freighter. Instead, they surrounded them the moment Rey thought they might have been free.

They acted quickly and without hesitation. As soon as the _Falcon_ appeared over the treetops, the fighters approached them from all sides, surrounding them and trapping them in place. Rey was forced to slow down the ship, in danger of colliding with at least one TIE fighter. The other pilot did not seem to care for his or her own safety -- or maybe it just wasn’t part of their protocol.

The wall of fighters seemed nearly impenetrable. Rey searched, but could not find even the slightest opening in their defense.

_If no opening exists_ , she repeated in her thoughts, _we’ll make one._

One of them drifted slightly away from its companions as she watched. Resolutely, she checked whether the communication channel was properly online, then called, hoping the technology would carry her voice to the other parts of the ship.

“Master -- a TIE coming our way. You’ll see it in a moment.”

“Hold on,” it instantly came from the communicator, Luke’s voice vaguely distorted. “I see it.”

A fraction of a second later, a blast shot out from one of the _Falcon’s_ canons, hitting its target with a deadly precision, blowing the black fighter into a cloud of smoke and debris. The shot had been one of beautiful accuracy, and Rey could only stare in astonishment. 

Then she gathered herself and felt her body tense with the expected response to their strike. It never came; the First Order’s ships only seemed to tighten their grip and continued to circle the _Falcon_ , which had no choice but to drift and hang still in the air. Apparently, the loss of their squadron mate hadn’t shaken them. Rey let out a single curse. 

Why aren’t they firing at us? she thought. What were they waiting for?

They must have gotten explicit orders not to damage whatever prize the First Order planned to haul. They had successfully managed to capture their prey, and now --

Now they were waiting for support.

And Luke and Rey needed to be far away before those re-enforcements arrived. 

_May the Force be with us_ , she thought. _How are we going to get out of this?_

Perhaps it was the Force exactly that came to their aid the moment after. Some of the TIE fighters above them parted slightly, whether by accident or design, and it didn’t escape Rey’s attention. She felt a jolt of adrenaline -- it was a slight opening, barely noticeable, but it would do -- hopefully. 

“Master -- are you there?” she called.

She received an affirmative reply. “Okay,” she continued, “I think I’ve found a way. Release fire. You must engage as many as you can. Distract them while I try to get us out.”

Shortly after, the air filled with beams of blasts and the deafening sounds of explosions, only vaguely dimmed by the exterior shells of the freighter. The wall of fighters began to split as they were forced to evade the blasts, not being able to respond to it adequately. Rey allowed herself to count on them continuing that way. Peaceful enemies were, after all, easier to fight. 

_What a horrifying thought._

She turned her gaze upwards to the first small opening that had appeared, and saw it grow larger with the increasing confusion and disarray among the squadron’s ranks. Then she pulled a number of switches, causing the Corellian ship to change its position drastically, until its tip was pointing straight skywards. With one final adjustment, Rey allowed the ship to shoot up, and they quickly left the TIEs and the Dagobah atmosphere behind them, moving into the vast darkness of space. 

Rey’s mouth quirked into a smile. It was an odd maneuver, but it had worked. She’d managed to get them out.

That, obviously, didn’t mean the end of their struggles. The TIE fighters followed moments after, and the squadron now began their hunt. Rey thought she saw a glimpse of something larger approaching. A cruiser, possibly a Star Destroyer, and it was still far away, but coming closer toward them. 

If they should ever have a chance of escaping… Now was the chance. She quickly began to make the precise calculations the jump to hyperspace would require. The large cruiser was not yet near enough to be a threat… and she could outrun the squadron. From that moment, it would be a question of speed, and it was a challenge they could meet.

“Rey, there’s a Star Destroyer behind us. More could follow,” it came from the communicator. 

“I’ve seen it. I’m making the jump to hyperspace now,” she replied.

She frowned impatiently, looking impatiently at the freighter’s panels as its systems tried to map a route that would take them safely through hyperspace.

She sighed and, at last, pulled a final switch placed centrally before her. She sat back in her seat, waiting for the jerk forward that always followed the jump into hyperspace --

It never came. Not the slightest thing happened.

_No. No, no, no…_

_It can’t be true --_

“Rey?” Luke’s voice sounded. “We have to leave now, or we won’t make it.”

She acknowledged that. She had let the _Falcon_ lose speed as she did the calculations, and the TIE fighters were slowly catching up. 

“I’ve tried; no success. Something’s wrong,” she said quietly. Then, more resolutely: “Go and check on the hyperdrive. See if you can find something -- anything that might be blocking its power.”

Pulling the freighter over, Rey managed to evade the First Order fighters as their pilots tried the same maneuver they’d used before. She wasn’t going to let them cage the _Falcon_ once again.

As two members of the squadron closed in on her from both sides, she made the _Falcon_ shoot upwards in a sudden change of direction. The unexpected maneuver caused the two TIE fighters to meet in an unavoidable collision, and the fighters dissolved into a cloud of smoke by the explosion, the fire snuffed out by the vacuum of space.

Rey had been flung backwards in the movement, due to the artificial pull of gravity in the ship. She quickly tried to get an overview of their situation. The squadron, though significantly reduced, was already assembling and ready to resume their chase. She heard rustles of sound from the back of the freighter, and soon after Luke appeared behind her, frowning.

“Nothing obvious seems to be wrong,” he said. “It’s the hyperdrive itself that’s malfunctioning.” Rey held her breath. She tried to think clearly. 

It couldn’t be damaged, nor could it be acting stubbornly due to lack of use. Such things shouldn’t be possible. Although, after all, she didn’t know much at all about the state of the ship, or its different parts, from the time before she started flying it herself.

There was, undeniably, a small possibility that the hyperdrive was simply aged and worn, and needed to be replaced.

That, however, would hardly help them now. 

Rey heard Luke swear silently behind her, but then, their situation did really seem quite hopeless. 

She looked ahead, and forced herself to focus. 

She had let the _Falcon_ move forward at maximum sub-light speed, in the direction opposite of Dagobah. From the opposite direction, the remaining TIE fighters came, slowly catching in on their prey. In that direction, the First Order awaited them. The Star Destroyer behind them was coming still closer, and Rey knew that if it came too close, it would be nearly impossible to escape. On her view screens, she saw several new TIE squadrons already taking off from the hangars in the massive battle cruiser.

She might have believed it would take a kind miracle to save them now. But little miracles often seem to show up the most unexpected times, times where all other hopes seem to vanish.

It didn’t have to be a miracle. Just a very convenient field of asteroids.

Rey discovered the asteroid field on her map of data before it was actually visible in space before her, and her heart sank a little. To avoid the asteroids, they would have to take a long way around it, which would steal a fair amount of their time. She shared her observation with Luke.

“An asteroid field…” he murmured thoughtfully. “It doesn’t have to be a hindrance. It could be our rescue.”

“Our rescue?”

“I haven’t had the chance to experience it for myself. But I know the _Falcon_ has navigated an asteroid field before in an attempt to escape, and succeeded.”

Rey fell silent as she pondered what he was suggesting. It was a reckless maneuver, and one that could hardly ever end well. But it might as well be their only chance to escape.

“The squadron maybe wouldn’t dare to follow…” she reasoned.

“And the Star Destroyer will be too huge. They can’t simply blast their way through every asteroid in their path -- it would be impossible for it to make it through,” said Luke. He watched her with an appearance of calm. “It all depends on you. Do you think you can manage?”

His question was well reasoned. It would take a bold and fast pilot to complete what they were planning. Rey swallowed and nodded. She could make it.

_I can do this. I can do this._

She looked straight ahead, to see the field of asteroids appearing before them, spanning infinitely wide to both sides. It would take a considerable amount of time to navigate around it; time they didn’t have. The fact only confirmed her in thinking that what they were about to do was the best opportunity they had.

She made the _Falcon_ continue on its straight-ahead course, and when they reached the field, she didn’t pull away. She went in.

The belt of flying objects immediately closed around them like a cage. It was a deadly embrace.

Some of the asteroids might as well have been small rocks; others spanned to a width of several kilometers. They were all around the _Falcon_ , flying past them and directly toward them, and Rey needed to focus all her concentration on keeping them from a fatal collision. 

Her entire body tensed with concentration, a small crease appearing between her brows as she risked several bold maneuvers to evade the stream of obstacles flying toward them. 

Luke had retreated to his former position down in the gunner’s chair, in case that they would need to defend themselves. He spoke while she was engaged in the crucial task of keeping them alive, not as much to update her on the state of their opponent as to keep her calm. 

The majority of the black squadron had ceased chasing the freighter upon discovering the course in which it was headed. It seemed most of them would reconsider what would most likely be a suicide mission, regardless of their orders. They lingered in the edge of the wide spanning field, brought in disarray by the turn of events. Any ship was more likely to fail than succeed in such an attempt. Even if it had the reputation of the _Millennium Falcon._

Only two fighters were bold and determined enough to continue their chase for the freighter. 

The first quickly took the lead, but mainly focusing on its prey instead of its dangerous course, it didn’t take long before it exploded into a vast cloud of smoke and debris as it collided with a rotating formation of rock.

The second had kept slightly behind, but the last TIE fighter now came up daringly close to the _Falcon_. And perhaps because the pilot had finally grown desperate enough for such actions, perhaps because of realizing he was now left utterly alone, the first beams of lasers shot out from the First Order fighter, aiming for the Corellian freighter. 

Some of the beams went past their target, hitting other objects instead, and blowing several asteroids to dust before Rey’s eyes. A single one reached what it had been aiming for, but the _Falcon’s_ shields proved complete, and no fatal damage happened to the ship. It did although cause the freighter to shake considerably, and Rey noted somewhat absently that they couldn’t take many more of such blows. Their shields could only endure as much. Eventually, one of the TIE pilot’s attempts to disable them would succeed. 

However, she would soon have no reason left to be concerned.

Aiming towards the single remaining fighter, Luke fired a single shot. The beam emitted from the _Falcon’s_ canons came within a fraction of a moment later, reaching its target with an accuracy that blew the black fighter into little smithereens of black metal.

No words were exchanged, but the two passengers on the _Falcon_ shared a mutual relief, like a glow of hope in the air. Rey’s exhale was audible. They had outrun their predators, and the looming threat of the First Order had ceased, at least for the time being.

The danger, however, had not.

With the precise calculation of an experienced pilot, she steered them ahead as fast as possible, taking sudden turns and dives when an asteroid approached, navigating through the unpredictable maze. The turmoil was dizzying, but Rey barely noticed, focused as she was on the challenges this task provided. The asteroids kept surrounding the ship, and the field seemed endless. A drop of sweat trickled down her forehead, waves of exhaustion from the tension and concentration pulsing through her body.

_Are we ever going to get out of this?_

With a sudden, strong pull of the helm, Rey evaded yet another stone giant coming their way. A feeling of dullness crept over her slowly, and she knew her concentration was starting to falter. Simply attempting to navigate through this felt like insanity now, and if they didn’t get through it in the matter of short time, their quest would be finished, quickly and abruptly. 

Yet still, through it all, it felt as if another presence, some other force, helped her, guiding her through it. Maneuvers and turns that in the very last moment saved them from a collision, her instincts seeming to act before she’d even realized the danger. It puzzled her, mystified her in the midst of the turmoil. Whether it was the Force, or something else guiding her, it felt oddly light -- contrastingly calm.

Just in that moment, the view ahead of them seemed to clear. The distance between the flying asteroids widened, slowly, until the _Falcon_ left the last drifting rocks behind it, and soared forward into the open freedom of space that seemed to embrace them in a soothing, soulless darkness. 

Rey threw back her head and sighed in relief. They had made it away from the Order’s grip, escaped -- extraordinarily, impossibly -- through a dangerous field of asteroids. An insanity that should not have worked out, but it had.

_She_ had done it, and she would’ve flashed a smile of pride, had she not felt too exhausted to do anything at all. Eventually she tried to calm herself down, to assure her body and mind that the danger had passed, at least for now.

She let her gaze wander forth, into the star-sprayed darkness ahead. 

The surroundings seemed vast and empty. Laid before her view were only masses of star scattered darkness, the infinitely deep blackness of space. Rey was unfamiliar with this corner of the galaxy -- as she was, truly, with the majority of it, but this was different. Some areas had been partially mapped and visualized for her by words, people whose conversations she had overheard over the years in Niima Outpost, talking of their travels to systems far away.

She would dream of those places far away, as she herself was caught at the fading edge of the galaxy. She had yearned for it, secretly; of travelling and seeing all these planets and glorious cities she could only visit in her thoughts.

_One day_ , she used to think, _when my family returns, I will leave this place._

_And together, we will travel and discover the entire galaxy. One day._

She forced herself out of her line of thoughts, coming to her like pearls on a string. She had left the desert planet, and she had seen foreign places stranger than she could have imagined. Most importantly, she had realized the impossible infinity of space, the eternity of everything. And those small things she had thought she knew, those scattered pieces of names and systems, worlds and species, were so easily lost in the great, unfathomable everything. 

This wasn’t the Western Reaches. This was the Outer Rim, some part of it she did not know, and she had absolutely no idea what was to be found in this remote corner of the galaxy. 

_Where can we go?_ she wondered, not for the first time. 

She straightened and shifted the _Falcon’s_ systems to autopilot. Then she released herself from the pilot’s seat and strode out of the cockpit, and into the more spacious lounge. Luke was already there, casually seated on the couch placed against the wall.

His expression showed a small frown, a single deepened crease between his brows, but otherwise inscrutable. When Rey entered the lounge his look shifted, and his blue eyes met hers. He didn’t speak at first, but simply watched her, calmly and with warmth, and she then realized he had not doubted her abilities for a second, and that he had trusted her to get them both out, free and alive. 

“It was _some_ brilliant piloting,” he said calmly.

A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “It was _some_ beautiful shooting, Master.”

He returned her smile. “You are the one to thank for getting us out of that situation, Rey. You managed to escape.”

She took a seat on the other side of the table, and said simply, “What now?”

He considered for a moment. “We cannot return the way we came. To make things clear, we cannot go anywhere far with a broken hyperdrive. To get the _Falcon_ repaired, we have to risk landing on a world with proper civilization.”

“But which planet would be within the _Falcon’s_ reach like this?” she asked.

Luke was silent for a moment before answering. “If my calculations are right, we’re not far from Tatooine.”

_Tatooine_. She remembered the name; the name of a world.

“It’s the planet where I grew up,” Luke said, his expression inscrutable. “It has been years since I last visited it.”

“You think we might find someone on Tatooine who would be able to fix the _Falcon_?” said Rey.

She saw the ghost of a smile on his face. “Plenty.”

___________________________________________

 

A system’s distance away, aboard the majestic _Finalizer_ , a roar of frustration echoed across the command bridge. 

There were several other people occupying that space, dark-clad officers of the First Order sitting behind screens and panels that showed the different tasks they’d been given to monitor the functions for the massive Star Destroyer. They all tensed -- the lesser experienced with something resembling fright, while the elders merely appeared to flinch -- by the outburst of sound, though all maintaining enough dignity not to turn their heads. One could hardly blame them their surprise.

It wasn’t likely for Armitage Hux to lose his composure like this. But then, for the young general, for the First Order itself, this had been a fatal failure. A flaw in the intricate schemes of the Supreme Leader. Though of course, someone like General Hux, who held one of the highest commanding positions within the Order, knew that he would come to see such flaws reflected by many of those around him, and not just Snoke. 

The Supreme Leader would forgive him, after all. Others would be less inclined to.

The unfortunate bringer of observations had withdrawn slightly from the general, his facial expression tight. He was Lieutenant Commander Nox, well taught in the ways of behaving in front of his superiors, but the uncontrolled outburst of fury had nevertheless caused the willowy young man to flinch in uncertainty as he privately saw his ladder of ranks and promotions -- carefully climbed throughout his years in the First Order’s service -- threatening to crumble.

Within the First Order, it didn’t take much. It was a precise, delicate hierarchy, where, with one wrong step, one could easily stumble and fall to the very bottom -- and infinitely few ever made it to the top.

Hux had turned his back to the other, his face unreadable. With a mask of calm, so sudden and stark in contrast to the moment before, he spoke slowly.

“Repeat the observation, Lieutenant Commander.”

The other man swallowed, then straightened and met the gaze from his superior. “Squadron B-47 lost track of the Corellian YT-1300 freighter, Sir. The wanted ship has supposedly attempted to navigate through the formerly observed asteroid field. It is unknown whether it succeeded.”

“The squadron. Did they follow the freighter into the field?”

The other man cleared his voice. “Sir, most of our pilots ceased their pursuit upon realizing the freighter’s planned course. Two members of the squadron followed the freighter into the field. Both were destroyed.”

He paused, and Hux gestured for him to stay silent. The general turned his gaze out through the transparent material that made the front of the bridge, then looked farther ahead, to the newly dispatched TIE squadron ahead of the _Finalizer_ as well as squadron B-47, returning in a considerably reduced state.

They had been so close to finally catching the Corellian ship; that one specific vessel, itself being nearly as infamous as those currently flying it. 

Escaping through a field of asteroids was a considerable risk for most, but Hux did not doubt they had made it out alive. These were not common rebels, after all -- nor simply common beings, for that matter. These people posed a far greater threat -- not that he himself would claim to fully understand those things.

“General,” the young man said hesitantly, “shall I give orders that the squadrons continue their pursuit?”

General Hux was silent for a moment as he considered. “No. Call in both squadrons. And prepare to leave this system.”

Lieutenant Commander Nox nodded, and bowed lightly before striding back across the command bridge.

Hux remained in his position at the window, looking out at the starscape unfolding for his view. 

He had received very specific orders on this case. They were to find Skywalker and his companion whatever the cost. No harm must be done to the captives before they were put before the Supreme Leader himself. Even Hux was in no position to question these plans designed by the Leader. Perhaps his apprentice.

A generous price had been put on them, and bounty hunters across the galaxy would already be playing their part to perfection, competing in their own private chase, so they might gain the prize for themselves. Reconnaissance units and spies were stationed in various systems, acting as the invisible eyes and ears of the First Order. So much had been put into motion for the purpose of capturing these two beings. 

They were a constant looming threat; that much Hux knew. A danger; a symbol of disorder, of divergence. Something that could not be allowed to prevail.

He had tried that day, but his own attempts had failed. It would take far more to defeat an enemy of that sort, he realized, not as much with regret as with some sense of cool indifference. The Jedi were no longer his personal problem.

Ren would take over from here.

__________________________________________

 

The _Millennium Falcon_ reached the planet of Tatooine as quickly as Rey could have hoped for given the circumstances. She watched the golden planet -- that seemed to almost glow from within -- as they approached, and it grew larger and larger, filling her vision. It would always fill her with a certain awe, she suspected, to arrive on a completely new world yet untraveled.

A whole new view. A new _world_ entirely, with its masses of strange landscapes and beings.

They entered the atmosphere, and as they drifted through the air, travelled on the warm gusts of wind, Rey’s gaze swept over the surface of the planet.

She watched a pattern of dry, golden formations. The surface was vastly covered by desert -- sometimes rising into soft dunes and hills, sometimes descending in sudden, stark canyons. She saw hordes of peculiar creatures gathering on the sand fields, and there were people, too. From time to time, villages, towns and spaceports rose in the middle of the otherwise abandoned land.

It was a scenery of golden and red, tinted by the colours from a setting sun - no, not a single sun, but two. A pair of twin stars on the sky. 

No words were passed between the two passengers of the freighter. It was a view that inspired quiet, and Rey observed Luke sitting, quietly, beside her, watching the landscape were he had lived and spent almost half his life. Had it changed much, she wondered, since then? Or was Tatooine a place much like it now seemed, that remained through the ages, barely touched by time?

She remembered Jakku, and thought it could be a good thing and a bad. 

The _Falcon_ dove slowly in the air until it finally touched the ground, in the place Luke had directed them toward, and they both stepped out of the freighter and onto the soft planet surface.

The first thing that struck Rey was the heat, the pressing, constant dry warmth of the desert. It was all that she had ever been used to, and yet it was a stunning contrast to the chilly climate they’d just left. 

They stood in a seemingly endless field of wasteland. Lonely figures they probably appeared as; the dim silhouettes of two beings standing beside a Corellian freighter in the darkening desert landscape. Surrounding them was only the flat, solid ground consisting of sand, rocks and pale yellow dust. To one side, far away, the soft contours of hills were barely visible, their edges and colours blurred into the sky.

“Behind those dunes you see is Anchorhead,” Luke said, pulling the hood over his head. “It isn’t far. But we cannot know which types of people we may encounter in the town itself. Our trip would be safer if we can blend into the crowd at daylight. We’ll go tomorrow.”

He turned his gaze towards the far line of the horizon. Rey lifted her head and felt a rare breeze of hot air against her face. 

It had been a crisp early morning when they’d left Dagobah, which just now seemed to have been ages ago. Here, on another planet in another system entirely, a flaming binary sunset set the sky and the landscape aflame with colours of deepest orange and red. The suns were catching the horizon and would soon disappear completely behind the hills, and give way to an all-encompassing night. Rey felt exhaustion tear in her body and mind, and yet she wondered what would happen next.

Tomorrow, they would wander across the dry wastelands. They would reach the town and see beings of other systems and planets speaking their alien tongues. Tomorrow, she would discover the ways and perhaps some of the secrets of yet another world that was entirely new to her; and entirely, wonderfully strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Bear with me. This chapter is basically just a lot of parallels to ESB -- but I promise things will take a surprising turn from here.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and please consider leaving some feedback!


	22. Eriadu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our two Resistance heroes reach their destination -- with a fair amount of unexpected struggles.

Finn was starting to feel remotely convinced that they were walking in circles. That they actually had been, for quite some time now.

The sun stood high in the sky, the harshness of its scorching rays soothed by a thin layer of clouds. The clouds were in a disturbing turmoil, blown forth by the howling wind that swept over the evenly flat landscape, stirred the dry patches of dust and sand in disarray, cooled the atmosphere with significant efficiency, and made Finn wonder if it had perhaps blown away his sanity. Or at least his ability, however modest, to properly navigate. 

These fields – the grass lands of Eriadu – seemed to have a touch of endless.

Surrounding him was a whole lot of land that looked suspiciously like the fields they’d spent the hours since sunrise trotting flat. It was all very flat and very dry, and occasionally scattered with rocks and stones in different sizes. The growth of plants and bushes, that had started out as being a rare sight, was now nearly nonexistent. What remained was dry, sandy surface. Rocks and stones. Lifeless grass. And the constant forsaken wind.

It had to look rather odd in a larger view, Finn thought. So far they hadn’t encountered a single living being here – no flickers of movement in the grass, no sounds, even vague, of other living creatures somewhere nearby. 

There was, simply, nothing. And then there were two male humans and an astromech droid in the middle of the nothingness.

Since the early glow of dawn, they had wandered. Having no clue at all about in which direction to go, they had set their course towards the only visible object of change in the landscape; the vague silhouettes of hills in the horizon. Whatever could be the location of any civilized place of living, the hills -- or whatever they were -- seemed a logical guess.

Truly, those hills were their only fixing point. They were stranded, on a faraway planet none of them were familiar with, and they did not know the right way to _anything._

Not to mention, they didn’t even know exactly what they were looking _for_. 

Distances were impossible to calculate. The rare high points in the landscape were all they could aim toward, and reaching them on foot might as well be a fool’s attempts.

They surely didn’t seem to be getting any closer.

“This is ridiculous,” snarled Finn, breaking a long, tense silence.

“And which part of the great This do you mean exactly?” Poe asked with an appearance of calm.

“I’m talking about the simple _fact_ ,” said Finn, straining to keep his frustration under control, “that we don’t seem to be getting any closer to those cursed _hills_ – if they even _exist_. You sure they’re not just some… mirage? A hallucination, because this place is already driving us insane --“

_And I’m thirsty_ , he only just prevented himself from -- pathetically -- adding.

But it _was_ getting warmer. And their stock of fresh water and supplies _was_ slowly running out.

“It’s not that hot,” Poe pointed out, “and we haven’t even walked for that long --“

“… and this dust keeps blowing into my eyes,” Finn went on, rubbing his eye as if to make a point.

The other swore exasperatedly and turned to face his companion. “Ever the optimist, aren’t you?” he snarled. “Look, I’m trying what I right now see as the _only damned way_. As far as I’m concerned, we don’t know where we are. We don’t know the location of our destination. The only thing we _do_ know is that over there is something that _may be_ hills, or mountains, which means there’s a good chance we might find settlements there. And if nothing’s to be found there, at least it may provide us with some shelter from this damned wind.”

Poe brought them both and the droid to a sudden halt, and dropped his satchel of supplies on the ground, before dropping himself. 

“I’ve never failed a mission, Finn, and -- _Hell_ , I’m _not_ going to fail this one.”

“As far as I’m concerned,” said Finn, “one of your latest missions ended quite suddenly,” He carefully joined the pilot on the ground.

“That was… different. I was captured. Interrogation. Mind probing. Crashed in a desert. It was a mess,” Poe said with the hint of a smile.

“Plus, someone was kind enough to finish that mission _for_ me. For that, I’ll be forever grateful” the pilot added.

“I have a feeling I’ll be testing your sense of gratitude,” Finn said earnestly.

“Oh, I’ve no doubt you will.”

A short silence fell between them. Finn was exhausted, and not because they’d walked for very long – which they undeniably hadn’t.

It had to be exasperation, and then there was something truly tiring about this whole place, the dryness that lay as a thin layer on everything. Their mouths were constantly dry, the skin on their lips cracking so Finn constantly caught himself licking away little droplets of blood. It was the combination of wind and dust, and he knew it probably wouldn’t get any better as long as they remained out in the open.

“BB-8, how’s your power situation?” he absently heard Poe say. The little droid whirled one time around himself, his dome remaining oddly in place -- it was a limbless droid’s imitation of a human shrug.

BB-8 had been keeping up with their speed surprisingly well, Finn thought, considering that this kind of travelling surely wasn’t the purpose it had been constructed for. 

He had given up being concerned about the unmistakable trail the droid left behind in the sand -- because the wind proved efficient enough to erase the marks shortly after they appeared, and also because he was starting to think no living soul would ever show up to bother. At least it meant no one was following them.

Poe dragged the satchel in front of him and produced a metal canteen containing fresh water from its interior. He drank little himself before handing the canteen to Finn, who accepted it with a surge of relief, relishing the way the water soothed his dry throat. 

He watched as Poe took out what else they carried in the small satchel: apart from their spare stock of water, it held a couple of bacta patches for treating wounds, and a small package of nutritive food made for longer travels in space. It really wasn’t much, and they both knew it wouldn’t last for long. There were the blankets, quickly tucked down in the bottom of the satchel when they’d left earlier.

And then there were two DL-44 blasters, elegantly hidden, wrapped into pieces of fabric so only the tops of the handles were visible. 

Finn automatically reached for one of the weapons. It was small and sleek, but made of surprisingly heavy material.

He raised his brows. “Didn’t know we had spare blasters.” There had been some in the freighter, but they hadn’t bothered to start searching for them in the mess that was the freighters interiors after the crash.

Poe shrugged. “Always nice to be prepared. The model’s rather old, but I’ve always been fond of it somehow.”

Poe sealed the bag once again and shoved it aside. None of them pointed out how little it contained for their survival -- there was no need. It would only lower their spirits further.

The pilot’s gaze went absent, looking at the points in the dusty horizon they’d been heading toward all along. Finn followed his gaze, wondering. Were they really hills? They looked like it from here, rising silhouettes in the otherwise flat landscape. Had they really not gotten any closer? Sometimes it seemed they had -- sometimes they only seemed to sink farther away.

“I wish we could just be sure this is the right direction,” Poe said, frowning. “I wish we even knew exactly _what_ we’re seeking, instead of just guessing --“

Finn couldn’t agree more, but he didn’t know what they might do about it.

Frustrated, he started digging into the dry earth with his fingers.

“The noble sirs are seeking Rósachen, methinks?”

The sudden creak of a voice behind them made Finn nearly jump to his feet.

Poe managed to react merely with a subtle flinch. He stood up, warily, and turned toward the source of the voice.

It appeared to belong to the only living being they’d encountered on the planet so far -- and a rather peculiar one at that. It belonged to no species Finn knew of.

The figure was very short, scarcely two feet tall, and its crippled, sunken appearance did not do anything to make it seem bigger. Its age was difficult to decide, as its head – oddly triangular in shape – was covered with a deep orange, leathery skin that seemed stretched out over too much bone, rather than folded into wrinkles with age like a human’s. The being’s gender was difficult to decide, but Finn concluded it was probably male. It -- he -- was wearing a long sleeved, dusty red tunic that reached far beyond his small knees, and appeared to be made for someone significantly larger.

“The noble sirs and their noble droid seek the way to Rósachen town?” the being repeated in his dry, creaking voice -- it was high, almost whistling, and penetrating even though it was faint. BB-8 had slowly moved closer to the small figure in front of them, appearing more curious than suspicious.

Finn tensed warily by the sound of that name. He felt suddenly certain that what the being was talking of – Rósachen – was exactly the place they were seeking. He briefly wondered what had brought this little person so far out in the middle of nowhere. 

He turned his gaze to Poe, who addressed the being with mild interest.

“Yes. We do. Do you know the way?”

“It is beyond those hills you see,” the being said, and confirmed their own assumptions, pointing one crooked finger in said direction. “Away, away from these open lands. Me shall show you thy way, methinks.”

Finn, still slightly overwhelming by the being’s sudden, puzzling appearance, remained silent and left his companion to answer.

“We’d be most grateful,” said Poe. “We come from afar. Our ship malfunctioned -- we could only hope to reach our destination on foot.”

Which seemed to be a fair underestimation of their struggles, but it would do. At least it was the partial truth. 

The being made a slow movement with his head, like an absent nod of understanding -- then he reached for a low, crooked wooden stick he’d planted in the ground, and, using it for support, he started moving his way forward, apparently expecting them to follow.

“Wait,” said Finn, most of his voice suddenly stolen by a gust of wind. “You haven’t told us your name.”

“Tepita is me name, noble sirs,” said the being, and continued to walk straight forward, headed for the hills in the horizon.

“Wait -- you don’t have to call us --” Finn called, but Tepita was already far ahead, his speed surprising when considering his faded appearance, and was beyond the reach of his voice.

“Dear Maker,” he murmured under his breath.

Poe cast him a glance with a curious expression on his face. “’Dear Maker’?

Feeling strangely flustered, Finn instantly began defending himself: “It’s that protocol droid’s fault -- the way he babbles on all the time --“

The pilot only shook his head in disbelief, and smiled for himself.

_____________________________________

The small entourage reached the foot of the ridge sooner than Finn would have dared to hope. Despite Tepita’s bent, crippled figure that seemed as if it would suddenly wither and dissolve in the wind, he was an excellent guide, and he moved fast and surefootedly, making it almost difficult for them to keep up.

The hills rose from the ground around them, instantly embracing them and providing shade and shelter. And silence. A silence that, unbroken by wind, unsettled Finn in a strange way. He’d gotten used to listening to those winds for so long.

The landscape also changed drastically from one moment to another; from dry earth and rocks and grass, to a dense growth of something far more vigorous, and much greener. They walked into something like a valley, cutting in between two soft ridges, on a surprisingly even path of darker earth and stone, winding ahead as a dark ribbon through the landscape. 

It seemed almost unnatural, and all of a sudden, the planet seemed much more likely to be inhabited by beings like themselves -- perhaps even many of them. 

On both sides of the path grew trees, low and crooked with dark green leaves. Occasional sprays of colour appeared among them, trees of the same sort but with leaves coloured deep crimson. Beneath the trees grew moss in various shades, going from blackish dark green to indigo and fuchsia.

The place was not all silent after all, he realized. Hidden in the trees were small, fragile looking winged creatures whistling to one another through small snouts, fluttering from a greenish twig to a crimson. These peculiar little beings, along with Tepita, were the first living creatures they’d encountered on Eriadu. And so he only wondered; _Where are the rest_?

Tepita had slowed down at last, making it possible for them to catch up.

Poe walked almost casually, gazing to both sides and looking as if he were simply taking a stroll around the area.

Finn looked at Tepita, questioningly, and was briefly unsettled by the foreign creature staring back at him with milky matte eyes that nevertheless had a glint of something bright and very aware. He was suddenly reminded of Maz Kanata from the watery, vigorous planet Takodana, and her piercing eyes he’d felt could see right through him. Seeing things that, perhaps, even he himself could not.

_I look into the eyes of a man who wants to run._

He automatically clenched his hands at his sides. He was no longer that same man – so he assured himself. When facing immense challenges, he would no longer give up and turn his back to them, but face them.

“You’re the only living being we’ve encountered here,” Finn said to Tepita. _Apart from the snouted tree flutterers._ “There were nothing alive out in the grasslands, but there has to be some life out there, right? Where have they all gone?” _Why did they flee_ , he might also have asked.

Poe was now paying attention as well. They were both interested to see if their short guide would have any answer that would perhaps begin to demystify this place – that the wind, the absence of life out in the open had a natural explanation, and didn’t _have_ to have this unsettling sense of _wrongness_ about it. 

There was no change in the facial expression of the small being. The features of his orange, leathery face remained plain, and if anything, the look in his eyes grew slightly darker. In silence, his gaze was directed at the path ahead; then he turned his matte stare to Finn, and in those milky eyes he saw knowledge older than anything else surrounding them – knowledge of things that were unknown to the trees and the animals, perhaps even to the hills towering above them, and the earth beneath their feet.

Tepita then answered, in his thin, creaking voice, “It is the storm coming, noble sirs. The storm that has been foretold for years, that will rage howling through these lands, make the place unsuited for the living. The winds will grief with the fierceness of the dead screaming in their agony, and that is why the living must retreat. 

“Long has it been spoken of,” he said, pointing towards the sky, “but now the time is soon to come. The dark is gathering above. Animals have wisely fled the open lands as their instincts tell them, but the other beings on this planet are proud and arrogant in their superiority. They think themselves safe in their artificial homes, protected by the cover of the hills to all sides. They don’t believe the great storm can strike them here. 

“But they are wrong, fatally wrong. The humans should see what the wiser creatures here have already seen. They should do as those. Leave, all of them in their noisy machines with which they can rattle the stars. Before it is too late for saving.”

He turned suddenly silent after the long string of words, and the ex-stormtrooper and the pilot instinctively looked at each other with matching expressions of disbelief, trying to fathom what they’d just heard.

Finn looked towards the sky above the flat grass lands, and frowned. There was undeniably something strange appearing on the sky – vast, unsettlingly dark clouds gathering and reaching in from the far horizon. A cold gust of wind swept into the soft valley from afar, bringing with it the crisp dryness of the open fields. He felt a shiver run down his spine.

Could it be true what their guide was talking about? The absence of life, the increasing wind, the dark clouds forming above… His frown deepened. It did seem peculiar, and hardly coincidental. Did this old being really know or believe what he was talking about -- or was it simply some local, superstitious nonsense?

Finn cast a sideways glance to Poe, who watched Tepita warily as if waiting for him to continue. It did not happen. Their guide had fallen once again silent and kept his inscrutable, milky eyes on the road. 

One thing was for sure, he thought, as their small procession continued down the narrow path winding still forward. Whatever Tepita had meant by his talk, literal or metaphorical, sanity or madness, it had only made Finn feel even less comfortable about this place in its entirety; the ribbon trail they followed, suddenly appearing to lead them straight into the dim unknown. The otherwise soft hills to both sides, suddenly looming and shadowed, as a treacherous embrace closing in on them. 

He wasn’t superstitious, and never had been. But there was something odd about this place.

Finn couldn’t decide how long they’d been walking along the same path, in the same valley. The clouds were still in a turmoil in the greyish sky above, as if caught in a maelstrom. The sun was creeping down to the edge of the hills, though he didn’t believe that much time had passed. Maybe the days were simply shorter on Eriadu – the system’s star sinking on the sky soon after having reached its zenith. 

They had walked in silence, the two young men and the limbless droid following closely in the footsteps of their short guide. Poe had looked straight ahead for a while, Finn had noticed, the pilot’s eyes glassy, his mind apparently far away. Or maybe he was just waiting for something to change.

Soon, something _did_ change remarkably.

The valley or rift, which had grown sharper and wilder as they got farther down the road, was now widening, opening up into a larger valley with yet again softer shapes. The crooked trees lining their way growing taller, and the snout like creatures noisier and bolder. Finn couldn’t help but follow their fluttering movements.

The now wide, vigorous valley, which seemed a logical place for sentient beings to settle, did also appear to hold signs of civilization. Surrounding them to both sides were fields that seemed too clean and even to be shaped that way simply by nature. The path they had followed since entering the high lands was also growing into a large, proper road, and when Finn looked closely he discovered some marks in the dark earth that could only have been made by machines.

Then, eventually, a town appeared before them.

Finn and Poe both came to a halt, instinctively, as a way of greeting the only signs of civilization they had yet seen on this planet. There were houses and life and _people_ where the road ended, and after so much silence, the distant visible turmoil was a stark change.

A village, it had been described as. But Rósachen seemed more like a vivid town. 

They approached what looked like the main street leading to the center, from where the houses spread out to all directions. And these houses were not poorly and simply constructed out of necessity, but tall and crooked structures, like the ridges that veiled Rósachen from the wild landscape outside. The buildings were tinted in several different colours and shades, contrasting and often mismatched, as if this was a place for many different types of people to gather, each bringing with them taste and opinions of their own.  
The main street was a proper street, from what Finn could see – not a muddy, earthy path cutting through the town, but a large, even road of cobblestones.

Before entering and letting the houses swallow them from both sides, Finn and Poe both looked back to thank Tepita for guiding their way, as he was no longer ahead of them. 

But he was nowhere behind them, either. In fact, it seemed as if the landscape had simply reached up to swallow the little figure, made him vanish into nowhere.

Finn frowned at the empty path from where they had just come. Then he faced Poe, who appeared equally mystified. The pilot seemed to consider briefly, then he shrugged and turned to the edge of the town yet again. 

“Better just move on. At least now we’re here.”

He strode out onto the main street with BB-8 rolling behind him, and Finn didn’t see why he shouldn’t follow. Soon, the multi coloured houses surrounded them to both sides.

Rósachen was no vast town, but it was bustling. A center of trade on Eriadu they’d been told during their short briefing before departure. A lively and wealthy place despite its size and unconventional location. Undesirable, Finn would have thought, in the midst of the nothingness, but perhaps that was the thing exactly. 

The people out in the streets bore visible signs of wealth themselves. They were mainly humans, but there were also beings of other species, Twi’leks, Koorivar and Abednedos, some presumably travelers from afar – all of them clothed in dresses, tunics and robes of thick, exclusive fabric in deep colours. The rims of robes and dresses were often lined with threads of gold and copper, and many – females mostly – wore heavy pieces of jewelry around their necks and wrists. 

Dressed in their worn, dusty travel clothes, bringing with them a dusty BB unit low of power… They couldn’t avoid feeling a bit out of place. Finn tried to assure himself it mattered little. Though still filled with life, traders and buyers alike, the streets would soon start to empty as the sun crept beneath the horizon. 

He thought about what the general had told them of Rósachen. The planet itself had a long history of battling, being conquered and used by different larger parties and governments. Eriadu had been a key location to the Empire, as the wealthy Tarkin family had held the authority over the planet during the Emperor’s reign. An authority that had caused the trade community to flourish, while leaving other parts of the planet’s inhabitants to their own misery. 

After the fall of the Empire, Eriadu had gradually fallen into a slump. Some parts of the planet had continued to move on, while others had been left to decay into a wilderness no one dared to travel. Some towns and cities, like Rósachen, had continued to flourish and grow, keeping their connections of trade with other systems, whilst also possessing impressive military defenses.

The small town was said to have a significant arsenal of weapons, and the citizens, despite their looks, were fighters, ready to use them if the chance occurred.

It was a town, and a planet, that would appear highly useful for the First Order as well, with its history and its rather convenient location. Truly, it was probably merely good fortune that had kept the troops from this place until this day. It would only be a matter of time. 

“Is this something you’re familiar with?” said Finn as they walked, referring to their mission in its odd, bold entirety. The size of the town only made it seem bolder.

“Something this scale? Not at all. I was counting on your expertise,” added Poe, casting Finn a sideways glance.

“Great. How reassuring.” It came only as an absent murmur, as Finn was still eyeing their surroundings.

_Is this bravery?_ he wondered as he started to fathom the size – and possible impact – of the mission. As well as the many hazards of it. 

_Or just plain madness._

They had reach a point where a narrow passage, approximately just a meter wide, reached out from the main street. Poe cocked his head as a way of showing which way he had in mind, and he led them down the dim gap between the colourful houses.

“We won’t find anything but stalls and tradesmen in the main street. That’s not what we’re looking for now,” he said.

“Then what _are_ we searching for? It’s getting dark soon enough.”

“Precisely,” the pilot said, promptly. “I’d like to find someplace sheltered to sleep tonight. And as we happen to be so lucky as to actually be in a proper town, I’d like to use the advantages such places usually provide. You may spend the night strolling the streets if you like.”

“No need to be edgy,” Finn muttered. Poe flashed him a bright crooked smile that was there one moment and then gone, leaving him feeling unfairly puzzled, as if there was some joke he wasn’t part of.

The sun had now nearly settled behind the hills. The clouds were tinted deep red by the fading light, and it cast a reddish sheen over the houses surrounding them, and on the cobblestones on which they walked. Finn watched as they passed different buildings of all purposes, some of them closing down with the fall of the night, others just about to wake. They walked by pools of artificial light pouring out onto the streets from windows and doorways, accompanied by laughter and growls from a dozen different species, with beeping bits of the binary language of droids.

He was beginning to wonder if they’d soon reach the end of Rósachen, but Poe turned down another passage, parallel to the main street. Finn didn’t know if the other man was choosing at random or following some sort of intuition. 

It appeared that for continuing down the second passage, one had to pass through an open courtyard connected to what looked to be a larger establishment. No people were in the courtyard except for a slender figure with a bottle in one hand, leaning into the shadow of the large house. The two men and the droid moved along, unsuspecting.

A sudden voice brought them to a halt.

“You’re Resistance fighters, huh?”

Finn tensed and turned, warily, to the source of the voice, which appeared to come from aforementioned figure. The person – a human male around his own age – now leaned out into the pool of light from a nearby window. 

He looked – to speak mildly – rather strange.

The man wore a flashy coat, deep violet and so long it reached the foot of his heeled boots. A broad brimmed hat was perched on his head, and a long scarf was draped around his oddly thin neck. 

He lifted his dark bottle in greeting and flashed them a wide grin, all the while glaring at them. _Glare_ was the only word that seemed fitting – the stranger’s eyes were absurdly huge in his thin face, wide open as if he were always gaping in surprise.

All three of them had tensed, even the droid, as if momentarily frozen in place.

“Yes. We are,” it then came from Poe. Finn turned his gaze to the pilot, wide eyed, jolted by his honest reply. Then, he figured there was hardly any other opportunity. They couldn’t exactly deny the strangers’ unexpected assumption, since it was true. 

And after all, weren’t they here for that exact reason? To reveal themselves. _To make themselves visible._

“How did you know?” Finn demanded, frowning.

“It’s just somethin’ about your attitude, I suppose… Some _atmosphere_ around you guys --“

A strange stranger indeed. 

Finn couldn’t decide whether this man was a threat, or simply not worth listening to.

“Ah well,” the stranger said, a smile spreading on his shadowed face. “There is something about that droid o’ yours. Think I might’ve _seen_ it before -- wasn’t it wanted by the First Order once? I do come in certain… circles, I do.”

The man nodded slowly for himself with an inscrutable smirk.

“Are you affiliated with bounty hunters?” asked Poe warily.

“I’m part of a great many things, ah yes. Yeah, I travel a lot. That’s how you get to know ‘bout things. And I’ve got to know about a lot of things. Lots of things about lots of things.”

The stranger nodded slowly again, his crooked smile widening.

Finn looked down at BB-8 who stood still by his side. He hadn’t even considered that some people might recognize a droid from the Resistance – especially this droid, which had truly been involved in quite a bit. Still, it had seemed too unlikely. 

They were probably just unfortunate… Unfortunate to have stumbled across this person specifically who could claim to know something about them at all; who happened to be in Rósachen at the exact same time as them.

Their true identity should rather not be revealed until the timing was perfectly right -- and even then, it was one actual hell of a risk.

_Stars._

“You’re brave to show up like this, you know,” the stranger went on.

“We’re brave to even _live_ these days,” Poe retorted.

“True, true -- though I wouldn’t know,” the man said, his voice slurring. “The galaxy’s in something of a state, huh? All these terrible conflicts everywhere… everyone speaking differently of things. Shouldn’t care though. Not much to do, anyway. We ordinary folks don’t have no say in things these days.”

“How can you _not care_?” Poe said with disbelief. “That’s really how you think about it? You’re a citizen of the galaxy as well as everyone else in this town! If the thought of a strong galaxy, united in freedom does not appeal to you, I should find it very peculiar.”

“Then become _peculiared_ ,” the stranger said, playfully speaking his made-up word in a sing-song voice.

Finn felt like he should say something, but didn’t know what. Poe looked bewildered, for a moment just standing stiffly facing the oddly dressed man. Then he absently shook his head, and made to walk away from the drunk stranger.

As Finn was about to follow Poe out across the darkening courtyard, the stranger seized his bottle once more as a farewell. Some undecidable liquor sloshed inside the dark container.

The man said, “Cheers to your courage, young fools. For you’re undeniably courageous.” Then he flashed them one last wide grin and emptied the bottle with a nonchalant movement, showing clearly how much he gave for bravery, and other ridiculous things of the sort. 

Finn and Poe left him in silence, and continued down the alley that connected to the courtyard that it seemed everyone had somehow forgotten about and abandoned, perhaps except for an occasional drunkard babbling nonsense. 

_This day is just getting stranger and stranger._

“So, what was that really about?” asked Finn as they strode forward down the winding alley. “Someone to practice on for tomorrow?”

“Obviously,” Poe replied airily. “I have to get myself into that passionate, revolutionary spirit before tomorrow.”

Finn doubted the pilot needed to practice for that, but he didn’t say anything.

_Tomorrow._ The word taunted Finn’s thoughts and brought with it a feeling of anxiety – and also a certain thrill. 

“So, where are we going now?” he said to change the subject.

“I wanted to find someplace -- a tavern maybe. Somewhere to spend the night.”

“A -- what exactly?” _Why am I always asking the questions?_

Poe halted so suddenly that BB-8 nearly bumped dome-first into him, and pointed. “They look like that.”

Next to them, tucked in between two looming buildings with anonymously darkened windows, was a smaller building that didn’t give the impression of being anonymous at all.

It was clearly a place where many people gathered and met for all sorts of purposes. The front door was flung wide open, for people to flow in and out easily as they pleased. Atop the door, Finn noticed, was a small sign that read _The Lone Wanderer_ in the Basic tongue. 

Light, life, sound and laughter all poured out; an overwhelming contrast to the quietness of the early night outside. 

Poe smiled crookedly as Finn watched the tavern with suspicion. Even BB-8 had recoiled a few steps back, seeming wary.

“Never been to a tavern before?” the pilot asked.

“Uh, no. Not really.”

Poe’s smile widened. “Well. Enjoy, then.” Then he approached the entrance to the loud place; the droid following shortly after.

Finn wondered about the day to come, as he walked toward the wave of warmth and sound that spilled from the tavern, and into the sheer, erupting chaos that seemed to await him inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The town, Rósachen is not canon -- most of the things I've written about Eriadu is, though (this includes the stuff about the Tarkin family). As for the planet's history after the fall of the Empire, I've allowed myself the freedom of imagination...
> 
> As always, thank you for reading and to those leaving kudos or comments on chapters -- I appreciate it all. <3
> 
> Also, endless hugs and cookies to my dear friend, LadyLionhart ('cause she deserves it) <3


	23. Anchor

Rey woke early. Or at least, it seemed early on this world, as the twin suns had barely slipped free of the far horizon’s sharp edge, though they already blazed with intensity. She still found it strange having to adjust her body to an entirely different planet – with an entirely different climate – that worked in a whole new rhythm of day and night.

She had spent some time upon rising, investigating the interiors and different rooms -- open as well as mysteriously secret and hidden, built for necessity as well as for comfort -- that the _Millennium Falcon_ consisted of. She had been through them before; the cockpit, the main lounge, and the hidden rooms beneath the floor for smuggling goods, but she still somehow managed to find more hidden corners, more things to discover in the old freighter. 

There was the emergency exit – which had also served as entrance before – through the roof, only reached when switching off a number of heavy, sliding plates covering it. There were the small private chambers, one of them in which she had spent her few hours of sleep. (She couldn’t help but imagine Han and Chewie practically moving into the ship and spending time out in deep space, at times when things would get particularly tiresome and complicated on the ground.) Quite recently, she had even discovered a make-shift kitchen in the _Falcon_ – small, though still significantly well equipped.

Rey now stood outside the freighter, looking out as far as she could.

 _It is strange_ , she thought then. _It feels like I know this place_. Even though this world was as alien to her as Dagobah or Takodana had been; though it should have been… there was something. She just couldn’t put her finger on what it might be.

In many ways, Tatooine bore resemblance to the planet she’d known for most of her life. It also felt entirely different. On Jakku, she’d been familiar with a considerably large area around the town; the surrounding deserts and dunes; the graveyard of debris from fallen ships from a time of battle, where she’d come to scavenge parts – a place she could practically chart during her sleep.

This open landscape felt wilder, somehow, and stranger. Maybe just because of the fact that this was another world -- an Outer Rim world. These deserts were not _hers_ \-- and so they seemed much more a desolate wasteland to her. Unwelcoming. Yet still…

 _Familiar_. It was a strange feeling, and she tried to shake it off.

After some time, Luke came out, standing quietly beside her on the already warm surface of sand and dust, watching the world that had once been his home.

Despite her light clothes, Rey felt sweat trickle down her forehead with the increasing heat of the day.

“Thinking back,” said Luke in a low voice, “I’m not sure how I used to survive this heat.”

___________________________________

Sometime later, two cloaked figures walked onto the main street of Anchorhead.

Under the disguise of the long, brown cloaks they wore, and the hoods that left their faces in shadow, they were easily absorbed by the masses of beings filling the streets. The small desert town was already bustling with activity, though it was barely midday. 

The buildings of Anchorhead were made of stone the colour of sand, and were constructed in the arcs and round shapes that were signature for the desert world. There were droids everywhere in the streets, gonk droids, mouse droids and worn protocol droids babbling to one another. And there were _creatures_. Creatures in all shapes and sizes; and beings of so many species, talking and negotiating in their different tongues and dialects as they passed by each other in the streets.

It took all of Rey’s concentration to keep her face down as they walked among the clusters of people. Her thrilled, curious spirit fought the urge to look up and marvel over everything new. All those beings and creatures and droids! All from so many different worlds and systems, far away… She didn’t think she’d even seen as much different life back in Niima -- or even in Maz’ castle on Takodana. 

Everywhere, dust was stirred up from the dry ground by the many beings walking here, falling like a light layer over everything, sticking to skin and clothes. 

Despite the midday heat, Rey pulled the long cloak tighter around her body. Luke had insisted that they wore them when entering the town. It was a safety precaution. The cloaks would conceal their features from sharp eyes -- in the unlikely event that a person might recognize them. 

On her person she bore nothing except for her clothes. There was the belt, in which she carried the small blaster that had been given to her. And her lightsaber, which was also strapped to the belt at her side.

She automatically reached for the metallic handle.

They passed a few stalls set up in the street, where traders were already shouting in an attempt to get rid of whatever oddities and necessities they offered. As they walked by a certain stall offering what looked like glistening black beetle eyes, a withering old woman shouted to them in a foreign language. Rey turned her gaze away and continued walking.

Luke suddenly turned down a new broad street, and stopped before a large construction that seemed to hold the surrounding buildings at a certain distance – there was some free space all around the place, and outside were speeders and other small vehicles of all models and shapes. There were many vehicles -- along with the clusters of beings pouring in and out from the entrance to the building, Rey concluded this must be a busy place.

“This place should provide us with what we need – or otherwise give us a clue to where we might find it,” said Luke, still keeping his voice down. 

He walked up the entrance – from where bits of music and the sounds of many different voices spilled out – and she silently followed. 

As they passed the threshold, he said, “Rey, remember -- this is place for many people to gather. Beings from many different worlds. There’s no way to know who of them might be enemies. There could be spies here, or simply people who tend to listen a bit too closely, so be careful. And try to avoid attracting unnecessary attention. If someone asks, do not give any names.”

“I understand,” said Rey.

They entered the building, and she looked around, trying not to appear too startled in the midst of the turmoil.

They were inside a large room, dimly lit in stark contrast to the natural light outside, the air heavy with smoke and steams scented with strange herbs and spices. Rey’s eyes immediately watered, and she had to inhale slowly a few times to adjust herself to the it.

Along the entire far side of the room was a long counter with tall stools, where different beings sat talking to one another whilst sipping from glasses of different peculiar substances; some of the liquors tinted with colours like crimson, indigo or toxic green, others oddly luminous and sparkling.

There were small tables scattered about the room, most of them already occupied by the largely varying assortment of customers. The tables were placed along the walls of the room, which saved a large open space in the center where many people already danced to music played by a small ensemble of Poletec musicians. 

The music was strange and otherworldly to her. The notes came softly and seemed to linger in the air, experimenting and unexpected, though not unpleasant. They told stories of exotic, faraway places, of secret landscapes, colourful and vigorous, of sweet foreign tastes and spices… how it should even be possible for music to tell such tales, to spark one’s imagination so vividly.

Rey quickly found herself standing in some kind of trance, and she had to tear her gaze away and force herself to keep moving. 

Luke walked straight to the counter at the bar, where he immediately began questioning the man standing behind it.

Not exactly sure what to do with herself, Rey headed for the far end of the counter, placing herself on one of the tall stools standing close against the wall. 

A thin, immensely tall man who could be little older than herself turned towards his new customer and raised a questioning brow. Alerted by the sudden attention, Rey stiffened before slowly shaking her head. The man immediately moved his attention elsewhere. She tried to steady herself. 

_Avoid attracting attention_. Well, she might as well just stay here. It wouldn’t do any harm. And neither would it hurt, she thought as she drew back her hood, to look a little around. A dim, shabby place like this, with an equally shabby clientele… It wasn’t the sort of place she’d normally come. If there was even such a thing as normal.

Her curious gaze wandered slowly across the room. She looked from the open entrance, that seemed simply a bright square of daylight in the wall, to the musicians playing their peculiar tunes in the far corner. She watched the people in the middle of the room, dancing to the slow rhythm of the music under the light of what looked like illuminating orange bubbles hanging from the ceiling. 

She watched the many people sitting at the randomly placed tables – so many different species, of which she only recognized half of them, each representing a faraway world. They were drinking and smoking, discussing and negotiating, or just casually chatting in languages she didn’t understand. There was a table of five Zabrak males speaking in low, guttural voices. Closest to her sat a group of little shy looking things with midnight blue fur, nervously clustered together. They watched her with startled, pitch black eyes, and looked shyly away when she met their gaze.

Feeling restless, Rey turned back to facing the wall and drummed her fingers lightly on the counter in front of her. How long would it take for Luke to finish his dealings?

From the corner of her sight she noticed a figure taking a seat next to her. Rey did her best as to appear absent, preoccupied by thoughts of deep importance. Looking emptily into the wall behind the counter, she might even have convinced herself. Some might think it rude to interrupt a person so clearly occupied by --

“Hello.”

She forced herself to look at the person speaking, and greeted him with a nod.

The person sitting next to her was a Twi’lek male; tall and slender with long limbs. His skin was an astonishing shade of indigo, and the lekku protruding from his head were painted in a pattern of elaborate white symbols.

He wore simple, almost plain clothes; brown trousers and a leather vest, but she also noticed the different bits of finery discretely carried on his person – a bracelet coiling all the way up his arm; a necklace of dark pearls around his neck; and the jeweled hilt of a dagger attached to his belt. 

His features were all sharp lines and edges; a sharp jawline and cheekbones that were accentuated by his coolly toned skin. 

And then she noticed his eyes – they were narrow and startling, their irises bright violet. The Twi’lek’s gaze was unnervingly fixed on her.

He was beautiful, Rey thought, in his own otherworldly way – but it was the alluring beauty of a predator, often deceiving.

“You’ve come a long way from Ryloth,” she said, not wanting to seem rude by not saying a word. She knew Ryloth was the home world of the Twi’leks.

He smiled at her – a smile that was sharp as a knife’s edge -- revealing pointed canine teeth. She doubted those were natural. But then, he wasn’t quite like any other Twi’lek she’d met.

“I travel about,” the Twi’lek said simply, his deep voice with the trace of a melodious accent.

“And what of you?” he continued, with a glint in his purple eyes. “This seems a strange place to find a young, beautiful girl like you.”

She frowned slightly at the compliment, given so casually. She’d have been very careful with this person, even if her instincts had not urged her to be cautious.

“My uncle is over there,” she lied, gesturing toward the bar’s opposite end. “He has business to discuss with the owner of the place.” 

His smile widened. “And what sort of business does your uncle engage in?”

“What’s it to you?” asked Rey warily.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. I am simply curious about you.” His eyes had not left her face for a single moment. They stared at her, in a way that seemed to make her unable to move. A predator’s glare. A significant part of her felt like running, far away.

“Our ship’s malfunctioning. We need it fixed before we can go home.” 

That wasn’t a lie, after all.

The Twi’lek watched her with an inscrutable expression. It unnerved her that she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Of course, she could always force her way into his mind, but…

 _No unnecessary attention_. She kept her façade of polite indifference.

After a long moment of silence, she thought he would say no more -- but then, suddenly, he spoke again:

“How kind of you. To follow your uncle on his errands. But what of yourself? Tell me something about you.”

“There is nothing to say, really,” Rey said, still sounding quiet and indifferent, playing the part of the shy niece who’d never set a foot in this place if she wasn’t eager to help someone else. “I’m the sort of person that… you’ll cast a quick glance, and then forget about the moment after. I’m the person that will be gone from your thoughts as soon as I pass the threshold. I – “

_I am no one._

She broke off, slowly shaking her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. She hadn’t meant to say as much. She hadn’t meant to say _any_ of those things.

It felt… _wrong._ It felt too much like what she would have said _before_. Before her life had changed completely. Back when those words had still felt like the truth.

He leaned in closer -- so close that she smelled the vague, perfumed scent of spice around him. He came close enough for her to feel his breath against her own skin, as he purred softly into her ear, “I don’t believe your words, girl; not at all. On the contrary -- I think you are quite _someone_ , young Jedi.”

She froze as her brain registered the word she’d just heard. Her instincts reacted immediately, screaming at her.

_Run. Run._

Tearing herself out of the strange confusion that had held her body in place, like a trance, Rey recoiled from the Twi’lek, instinctively reaching for the saber beneath the folds of her cloak. “What are you saying?” she asked sharply.

He only smiled at her, his expression so apparently calm that it unnerved her, made her feel if anything even more assured that this was wrong, wrong, wrong. “You cannot conceal your identity from me. I know who you are, Jedi.”

“How?” she demanded.

“Well – it might be for the posters and boards with you face on it -- _everywhere_. Especially in a vile place like this -- they are on stalls, in almost every street and alleyway… I’m surprised they’ve escaped your attention so far.” 

All the while, his voice remained soft and even; he sounded almost merry, as if it were a funny little secret for them to share.

Rey let her gaze run over the room once again, where it stopped at the center part of the bar just behind the Twi’lek. There, plastered just below the counter, was a poster. And stars, it surprised her how she could have avoided noticing it before.

The poster -- made of actual, old-fashioned paper already torn at the edges -- featured an astonishingly accurate rendering of Luke’s face. The face of her master, featured with a frown and a dark, slightly hostile expression, was drawn next to another face, which she hesitantly recognized as her own.

Her own picture was far less detailed and not as precise, as if it had been rendered from questionable references. She was pictured with the alerted expression of a fighter, the look in her eyes challenging, in a way that she supposed was an exaggeration of her natural expression.

Beneath the images of the two faces was a number of digits, which Rey supposed was the prize that would be given as reward for their capture. From what she could see, the sum was immensely generous. Wealth utterly unfathomable to her.

Even if it was silly, she felt almost flattered.

There was more text after that, but it was too small for her to read. Probably their names, and something about who they were, if not exactly what. And, at the bottom, the black logo of the First Order, for she didn’t doubt for a second who had offered the reward. There was only one organization that would want to acquire the last Jedi, whatever the cost; who had all the means necessary at the tips of their fingers.

She wondered if this was the sole reason for the discomfort, the creeping wrongness she’d felt ever since entering this place, the clenching feeling in her gut since before they’d even entered Anchorhead. She doubted it -- new surprises had a way of materializing in the most unexpected moments, and most often they were neither very comfortable, nor convenient.

Rey looked back at the Rylothian in front of her, meeting his unchanged gaze with the ferocity of her own. “So. You know about me.”

She left the rest of the sentence unsaid.

_What are you going to do now?_

“I wouldn’t claim to _know_ about you,” he said. “The people whom I work with are well informed, but no one seems to know much about you at all. Truly, you are a mystery. The young girl who is said to be travelling with the Jedi Master himself… The Jedi Master who was utterly lost to the galaxy… until recently, that is.”

Rey’s feeling of discomfort grew. She wouldn’t have thought that they were already so sought for; that certain people across the galaxy would already know about her existence by now… Had she really just been too naïve?

Was the Leader really so eager to get the last known Force wielders under his control? Probably. He’d sent a Star Destroyer after them at the first opportunity, after all.

The Twi’lek smiled his predatory smile. “Have no worry, young one. I am not going to give you away. And I shouldn’t think it likely that anyone else in this room has noticed yet. I am curious about you. I wonder… are you really the new, powerful Jedi that some people whisper about?” He tilted his head slightly, watching her with his bright gaze.

His next demand was so unexpected it momentarily stunned her.

“Dance with me.”

“I – what?” she heard herself say.

He seemed marvelously amused. “Dance with me, fair one. And I assure you that I won’t reveal your identity -- not even if the rumors are true and your so called _uncle_ happens to be Skywalker himself.”

Bewildered by his rather simple request, she declined it as politely as she could. “Unfortunately, I can’t. If you keep silent about me I would be most grateful. But I must leave.” She attempted to rise and leave the bar, but the Twi’lek stopped her.

“I absolutely insist,” he said, his accent suddenly more profound. His violet eyes shimmered in the dim light.

She looked down at his hand on her arm, then eyed the room around her. The scene appeared nearly unchanged, people occasionally drifting in and out. Figures of different shapes clustered around the bar, leaving the workers of the place busy and inattentive. She couldn’t immediately find Luke among them. 

She cleared her voice, feeling suddenly lightheaded. “One dance, then.”

________________________________

Before Luke felt like he could achieve anything, he found himself surrounded by an insistently pushing group of beings, native as well as otherworldly, who produced a vast amount of sound with their loud talking.

He’d attempted to catch the attention of one of the staff behind the bar, and at last a willowy young man responded with a look of disinterest.

“No, I don’t want a drink,” explained Luke as the man lifted a glass in his hand in a questioning gesture. “I would like to speak to the owner. Is he here?”

“He’s in the back,” said the boy. “Hold on a second an’ I’ll fetch him.”

He disappeared through a door that had seemed non-existent until now. Luke stepped back from the counter of the bar, trying not to be swallowed by the crowd. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen so many people in these types of cantinas. But then, it had been quite some time since he’d last been in a place like this -- half shabby cantina, half epicenter and meeting point for negotiations and trades that would never see the light of the day, smugglers and other criminals.

He let himself fall into a brief sense of calm. Closing his eyes, he let his consciousness wander and flow across the vivid glows in the room, then farther out, to encompass the whole town. Slowly, he felt himself calm; the sensation of light filling him from within. The light of the Force.

This is how Obi-Wan would have handled a situation like this, he thought. He could almost hear Master Yoda’s voice in his head, urging him to find patience, to seek wisdom in a time of turmoil like this. 

Especially when this situation in particular had quickly grown so far beyond their reach, out of their control. 

He thought of Rey, who was growing so powerful -- who already had so much brightness, and shadows, too.

He thought of his nephew, who had never had the chance -- who’d never been given the chance -- to feel this light; the calm and assurance it could bring.

Luke sighed, shaking his head slightly in an attempt to clear his thoughts. As a Jedi Master, he must be able to shake off the grief; to forget about the guilt, in order to focus on the things of greater importance. The will of the Force.

He ought to, as it was his duty. Although rather than getting easier, he only found the burden to be heavier than ever. 

_The will of the Force_. If these ways were truly following the will of the Force itself, the will of the light… Though despite himself, of course, Luke had over the years not been able to avoid wondering. Perhaps none of them truly knew the will of the Force. Perhaps none of them truly understood it. Perhaps the Force itself, the infinite mystery of it, would always be somewhere past the comprehension of simple mortal beings. 

Over the time, it had only come to feel less like a question, a doubt, and more like the unavoidable truth.

Luke broke free from his trance and looked up as a short, broad figure emerged from the hidden door behind the counter. The man caught sight of Luke and gestured for him to follow him to the far end, a space that was yet unoccupied. The Jedi silently followed.

The owner of this place was a short middle-aged man with a straight stance and a somewhat crude appearance. Though not appearing as a very impressive figure from afar, the stern expression and sharp gaze from the man gave the impression of someone who was accustomed to being respected – and obeyed. This was a person who’d experienced and seen a bit of everything. Luke didn’t doubt that any less was required to run such a place.

The man went by the name of Bronn, and he had indeed run this bustling place for a generation, though Luke doubted the owner would recognize _him._

Bronn raised a pointed brow, his arms crossed. “You wanted to talk to me. What’s your business?”

“My ship is malfunctioning,” Luke said simply. “Presumably some matter with the hyperdrive, which may need to be replaced entirely so my companion and I can continue our journey.”

“What kind of vessel?”

“A Corellian YT-1300 model freighter. We landed it on the fields just beyond the dunes.”

“Old model, is it?”

“You’ll probably find that it has experienced some… modifications.”

Bronn didn’t seem to need much time for consideration. “I’ll make sure your ship is taken care of. But if the hyperdrive needs replacement -- it would cost you a pretty sum.”

“I’m ready to pay,” Luke assured him. 

The man grinned broadly. “Those are words I’m always happy to hear. I’ll send a crew to fix it shortly.”

He asked if there was any more, and then nodded as Luke listed up the few supplies they would need. 

“I can get you all of those. There isn’t much I don’t keep in this wretched place nowadays,” Bronn said grimly. “Dare I ask your name?”

“I’d prefer not to give away my identity,” Luke replied, trying to remain polite.

The man chuckled. “I suppose I’ll mind my own business, then. By the Maker, if there’s anything I know it’s when to keep out of things.”

Someone suddenly shouted to Bronn, though Luke didn’t catch the words. The owner of the place did, however, and yelled a reply to the other person.

“You bastards know I don’t deal with those things. Leave it to Miss Kenobi – she’ll take care of it.”

Luke tensed and became suddenly much more aware, alerted by the sound of a name that he had not heard spoken out loud for so long.

There was no possibility. And yet… There was such a large, gaping hole of possible truths that might still be hidden from him. Secrets he was never told about, for there had been no right time to hear them.

 _Kenobi._ Kenobi. He heard certainly heard correctly. And that name, to hear it on this planet of all… 

He sensed it could hardly be a coincidence.

Inside Luke’s head, a maelstrom of new thoughts, of images and wild speculations, rolled over him like tide – continuous waves of possible truths and stories never told, of several things suddenly filled with a new depth and meaning entirely.

“Hi, anonymous one – I suggest you take the offer. It’s the best one I can give you these days – what with the crisis everywhere on the market, tusken raiders attacking the town along with everything else… Hey, you listening?” Bronn frowned and watched him with his stern gaze, arms folded across his chest.

Luke forced himself back to reality. He realized Bronn must have been talking for a while, and that he’d been so distracted that he hadn’t heard the suggested price. It didn’t matter -- Bronn might be one of the few people he could trust in this place to offer him a fair price. 

As long as they got to leave this planet – these desolate dry landscapes that were once his home. 

So Luke simply nodded to the other man. “Deal.”

________________________________

The music was enchanting, spellbinding, and Rey tried her best not to get drawn completely in and swept away by its alluring tones.

The Twi’lek had not said a word since his insisting request, but his unsettling eyes never once left her. And yet he managed not to stumble a single time – he moved fluidly and easily across the floor, elegantly whirling around in the rhythm of the music whilst just as easily dragging her along with him. She found it a bit difficult to keep up; after all, dancing was not something she was very experienced with, but she found that she barely had to do anything at all herself – the dark skinned Twi’lek could have lifted her entirely from the ground and still moved with the same light-footedness. 

Rey had nearly no awareness of the other beings occupying the room around her. She faintly sensed the other people dancing, but all her concentration was spent trying to control her own feet’s movements on the floor. She had no feeling of how much time had passed – it could be far past midday by now, or it could have been mere minutes since they entered the dim place.

Where was Luke?

The music changed into another tune – she didn’t have count on how many times it had actually changed by now – and those new tones were somehow slower, darker in a way that gave her an odd feeling. She forced them both to a halt, although the Twi’lek didn’t let go of her at first. 

“I must leave now,” she said, trying to carefully wrench herself out of his grip. “Please,” she added primly when he didn’t let her go. 

His face came closer to hers, violet eyes narrowing. “I don’t think so, pretty one.”

Rey’s body tensed with ire. “What do you mean?”

“I think you know what I mean. You are a Jedi; powerful, rare. I’m afraid I cannot allow you to leave.”

He flashed a wide, predatory grin that exposed his canine teeth, brightly white, pointed and sharp.

And she damned herself for ever thinking she could somehow trust him -- that she could trust anyone at all in this place. No one seemed to notice the two figures standing in the middle of the floor; among the entire crowd of beings in the room, few barely spared them a glance. Anxiety crept up Rey’s body, and she wished nothing more than to leave this place – whatever it really was – at once. She suddenly longed to leave the dimly lit room and step back out in the blazing, natural day light. But the Twi’lek held her closely, and he didn’t seem to have any intention of letting her go.

Suddenly, she just _couldn’t stand it_ \-- this stranger’s grip on her, refusing to let go, his mere nearness. It was all, suddenly, too much. And somehow it seemed to have little to do with the fact that this person was obviously proving to be more enemy than friend --

No, it was something else. _Stars_ , she would rather --

Burning bronze eyes. Waves of black hair framing a pale face.

Gloved hands running through loose strands of her hair. Silence, but for the frantic beating of their hearts…

_Such glow… treacherous, and yet the call is so powerful… one must be affected by it._

A glow --

 _Stop_ , her mind said, but not before she’d sensed every instinct, every inch of her traitorous body sigh, _Yes._

It materialized suddenly, like an anchor; something for her to hold on to, like the vague memory of a song nearly forgotten.

Staring at the Twi’lek male with thunder in her eyes, Rey demanded coldly, “ _Let go of me_.”

She did not raise her voice significantly. However, a few heads now turned to the two of them – those who were nearest even ceased dancing when sensing the source of the disturbance.

The Twi’lek hissed between gritted teeth. His grip on her arms tightened so she thought it might create new bruises.

Luke had told her not to attract any unnecessary attention. But in this case there might only be one solution, and she would be lucky if it went entirely unnoticed, especially when regarding those who were already watching without interfering.

Rey inhaled deeply, then calmly met the sharp glare from her opponent.

“You will let go of me, and leave this place at once.”

She searched for any sort of reaction in the Twi’lek’s face, and found none, to her deep frustration. He flashed her a dark smile. “Ah, but see, your little mind tricks will not work on me, _Jedi_.”

Rey closed her eyes, and steadied herself, convinced that it would work. It had to. And when her eyes fell open again she felt as if a stream of light trickled hotly from her very center and out, all the way out to her fingertips like blood in her veins, and to her mind, which became instantly clear. Calm. Open. 

And when she spoke again, it was with a renewed certainty and depth in her voice, and there was no doubt that the Twi’lek could do nothing but react on her words.

“ _You will let go of me, and leave this place at once._ ”

She held his gaze as his bright eyes, before so sharp and penetrating, became suddenly glassy. He continued to hold her arms, but his entire body stiffened in the position, and then he answered with an even, monotone voice.

“I will let go of you. And I shall leave this place at once.”

Though sounding unnaturally plain, his voice was clear and loud – almost surprised, as if it were someone else speaking out through him, himself only a vessel.

And as the Twi’lek finally loosened his grip on her entirely, walking steadily through the clusters of people as if they were not there, and out where she could not see him, Rey couldn’t help but stare. 

It had felt just the same as when she’d once tricked a guard in white armor to let her escape. Just the same feeling of not fully controlling, but still being able to bend. To hold another’s mind for the briefest time. And yet it was entirely different, for back then she’d had nearly no knowledge of what she did, and how she did it, and now she did know. Though it did not feel any less strange.

She looked around and, with regret, had to conclude that other people as well had paid attention to what had just happened. Not so quiet and unnoticed after all.

Rey felt suddenly that a wall of too many people were standing all the way around her as the Twi’lek left, many of them fallen inscrutably silent.

Had they seen the drastic change in his behavior? Had they heard the words exchanged between them?

 _Avoiding attention_ , thought Rey, as she eyed the many other eyes – pairs and single – that were now fixed on her, _is something I’ll have to get better at, it appears._

For the stars knew what time this day, she automatically reached for her lightsaber.

With the posters that she knew were there, it could merely be a matter of time before someone drew the parallels, wove the thin strings of information together into something of fact. She needed to get away – _they_ needed to leave – before someone’s curiosity might turn into something else. As it had with the Twi’lek male, whom, she realized absently, she didn’t even know the name of.

Rey then sensed a flicker of movement in the corner of her view. She whirled around, only to see her master coming quickly towards her through the crowd of people, ready to leave at last.

Luke didn’t say a thing. As he approached her, he only looked at her once and gestured for her to follow him out through the small, whispering crowd, and out of the dimly lit room.

When they got outside in the still blazing sunlight, overwhelmingly bright by comparison, Rey quickly pulled the hood over her head. She followed Luke away from the building, through the bustling life of the little town, which had not ceased or changed particularly in the meantime, as if nothing odd had occurred at all.

______________________________

The Rylothian, who normally went by the name of Sarsch Tenar, had walked fast away from that same building, immediately after finding himself suddenly outside in the sheer, sharp sunlight. Infuriated, he had moved little down another street, then turned down another secret alleyway, so narrow that even the bright rays of Tatooine’s suns could not break the dimness. The alley was cast in constant shadow, and so the Twi’lek also guised himself in the absence of light.

His slender hands were tightly clenched into fists, as he let out a snarl of anger.

He knew what had been done to him, and he damned himself for being controlled that way. It should not have happened. He should have been able to resist such simple tricks of the mind. But it _had_ happened. And now they were presumably already far beyond his reach.

Although they were still _here_ , on this planet. And he knew the people who would be very pleased with that information; who would make sure the two Jedi would never freely leave the system again. It would all be too late. They would come realize how they’d been doomed the moment they first set foot in this town.

He smiled, an animalistic expression that looked more like a cruel grimace than a smile. Then he produced a small metallic device from a pocket, and held it up closely to his lips.

“I have a message for the Knights. This is Sarsch Tenar, speaking from Anchorhead. _They are here._ I have them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Things may seem strange and confusing. They often do, in the middle of a story. I hope you will keep up with me as I try to weave these little pieces and scattered hints into a greater one. Trust me; everything has a purpose and the reason for everything will soon be revealed... well, some of it, at least.


	24. A Question of Courage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe nothing was too strange or unexpected to startle him anymore.

Finn was about to conclude that it would presumably be for the best not to think too much at all. Not about worries of several drastically terrible outcomes. Not about war or politics; nor fighting for a grand cause.

Not about how badly his back ached after sleeping all night on the hardest, most uneven mattress he’d ever encountered (sleeping on the surface of rock had been more comfortable – so he was currently convinced, anyway). They were happy to have gotten any sleep at all, but with some shred of fortune, he’d fallen asleep almost instantly. Almost. At least the very moment his stirring mind agreed to shut up.

There was Rey, who was probably on some faraway planet in a faraway system by now, and so he could not help her even if she’d have _needed_ his help. Which she most likely didn’t. Truly, the last thing she probably needed was _his_ worry to burden her as well. 

Chaos, she’d fought down every enemy in sight from the moment he met her, with the impressive strength and courage she possessed – she was a girl that gave most people the impression of being invincible; although no one could be that entirely. 

Finn needed not worry at all. 

And yet, always he carried with him a strange fear that felt like a cold knot growing inside him. There was nothing mysterious about it, really -- but that was what concerned him. He knew that it was the simple human instinct -- of sensing danger approaching.

A sensation that something was amiss and not as it should be -- that in fact, something might be terribly wrong…

Maybe feeling miserable about his sore back was preferable, after all.

They were standing in a dingy little alleyway that was as completely randomly chosen as it gave the impression of being. It looked like a place few people would randomly stroll by. Finn wasn’t sure how many people in Rósachen would ever even go on a random stroll – despite their wealth, it seemed that everyone they’d passed to this moment had some sort of errand to attend to, always something that demanded their attention. A fact that might make it more difficult to stand out -- or easier.

Judging by the sun’s position, hidden behind a thin veil of clouds, it was almost noon. And that meant their perfect time, their calculated moment, would be, well, _now._

Not that they were actually sure what they were expected to do. Or _how_ they were going to do it.

Finn murmured vaguely something about the time. Poe simply remained in his leaning position against the wall, staring into the wall on the other side. The pilot looked slightly pale.

At some point, he finally turned his odd gaze to Finn. “I hope you’ve had a good night’s sleep.”

Finn grimaced. It _had_ been fine – but the old tavern had been mildly chaotic, and not at all destressing. He hadn’t taken much notice, not really. He only knew that it had been a turmoil of noise and warmth and too many bodies on too little space, and when they’d finally gotten a room – well, the beds and all that. The noise from the serving room had not ceased as Finn fell asleep and not remarkably, either, when he’d woken. 

Poe only nodded for himself and looked away again. “You’ll probably need it. Not to know exactly what we’ll be experiencing today."

He flashed a crooked smile, though this one looked like a grimace. “I’ve always loved surprises.”

He didn’t sound at all like a person who liked surprises.

The pilot being rather passive in his behavior, Finn looked down at the orange droid before him, who undeniably seemed the most eager of them at the moment. “BB-8, show us a map of the town -- from the data you’ve gathered so far.”

BB-8 beeped softly, then caused a small opening to appear in his outer shell. A projector shot out from the opening, and soon a pattern of blueish light seemed to grow upwards from that point. Finn watched as the pattern turned into the lines and shapes that formed what looked like an accurate map of Rósachen, flowing transparently in the air between them. He recognized the broad street running all the way through the town, and also some of the smaller alleys they’d walked in the night before. On the other side of the blue hologram, he saw that Poe was studying it too, suddenly alert. 

The town was indeed not large, and in the broad daylight it shouldn’t be difficult to find the correct routes going through it. Finn found the kind of place he’d been looking for, and nodded slowly. 

“That open point, just in the center --” he began.

Poe straightened and rolled his shoulders, as if he’d only just really awoken from his trance. He looked ahead, down the little alley, with bright eyes. “And that’s where we’ll go.”

Before Finn could say anything else, his friend moved past him and strode down the alley they’d earlier wandered into. Away from the dimness, and into the bright day.

Finn finally got his feet to move, and followed Poe through the web of winding passages and small streets, some of them left empty and silent, some of them bustling with townspeople and traders from afar. 

And with every living being they passed, every group of people standing in the light streets, Poe greeted them only with two words:

“Follow me.”

An old, withering woman standing in the shadows of a looming building, leaning heavily against a crooked walking cane, looked up with a surprising strength and brightness in her eyes as Poe met her gaze and said, “Follow me.”

A larger group of a dozen people in embroidered cloaks, hectically discussing some matter of importance on one of the wider streets towards the center. He simply stepped right through the group, ignoring the disarray and confusion he caused.

“Follow me.”

So they continued to wander through the streets of Rósachen, stopping people in the middle of whatever they were doing, addressing them with those two words. If a person started asking question of ‘ _where_ ’ and ‘ _what_ ’, Poe would simply answer, “The square. Come. It happens now.”

Soon, they had drawn with them a group of townspeople that kept increasing in numbers, walking right behind them as a procession through their town. Where they met new people in the streets, others urged them to join, and others still came along, drawn simply by curiosity. The promise of something important to happen. And whatever that something might me, however odd it might seem, it wasn’t something they’d want to miss.

As his friend gathered the people of Rósachen with him, with the power of something invisible that seemed as strong as the Force itself, Finn followed in awe. He looked at Poe’s face and saw only determination, but his _eyes_ … it was as if a fire was ignited within him, and it lit him up from within with a strange energy, almost unnerving. 

As they stepped out in the open space of the square -- right in the center of the town -- Finn only knew that whatever that fire was, they must use it now, before it could be extinguished.

The two of them continued until they stood, alone, in the very center of the square. There in the center was something that might serve as a podium, though it was simply a platform of stone slightly raised from the ground of sandy cobblestones. As if every pair of eyes present were not already focused on them, Poe stepped up on the podium as a way to make himself more visible.

The people saw him, certainly.

A near silence had fallen, only broken by vague murmurs and whispers. It was as if everyone present had agreed to keep quiet. The anticipation in the air was palpable. On the faces of the townspeople, Finn saw varying states of curiosity and suspicion. 

He let his gaze run over the crowd, which had slowly streamed in from the connecting streets and alleys and halted on the square, leaving free space around the podium. He was amazed. Judging by the number of beings now present, it had to be the vast majority of Rósachen who had been drawn, whether by curiosity or hostility. Which was good. It was significantly more than they might have expected.

There were the townspeople, who were mainly humans – and though they were dressed in wealth, he could see in nearly all their eyes that something else was rooted in them, far deeper. They looked like fighters; people with the grim looks of some who had fought and would still fight to survive.

There were also other beings present, but he didn’t think they belonged to this place at all. They had to be tradesmen, or perhaps they had come here for a different purpose entirely. He only knew that these were the dangerous ones. These people who came from faraway places, who would soon vanish again, quickly forgotten by this town as well as its inhabitants.

_This is madness_ , Finn thought for a brief moment, and the thought was half actual anxiety, and half something that felt like stirring excitement. Maybe something _was_ really wrong with both of them. He wouldn’t be surprised.

Maybe nothing was too strange or unexpected to startle him anymore.

BB-8, who had stayed with the crowd at a polite distance, beeped softly. Poe looked once at Finn beside him, who met his gaze with as much certainty as he could manage. Trust. This was what he could give his friend, and he found to his surprise that it was completely true -- unconditional. 

The pilot smiled at him, then eyed the crowd around them and started to speak.

“ _The Republic is dead._ ”

_Alright_ , Finn thought. _That was a bit startling._

But apparently effective. The people of Rósachen fell almost instantly silent, now clearly listening and paying attention.

“The government that symbolized the freedom and equality of our galaxy has been destroyed by an organization who would that our government was a different one entirely. The Galactic Senate, which made decisions and discussed matters crucial to us all, has been brutally swept into oblivion. What we now have left from the disaster is nearly nothing.

“I assume you’ve all heard of the First Order -- the mysterious organization that has now, finally, revealed themselves to the galaxy at large. The military force that intended to destroy all that we have spent a generation trying to rebuild. The Order that wants to reinvent what was once the Galactic Empire.

“You have heard of them. Rumors, stories – those can easily be made into something like fact, though not all of them are true. You don’t know what to believe, and in who you should trust. 

“You may have heard about what happened to the Hosnian system -- the former headquarters of the Senate. Many of the terrible things we hear can be hard to believe, especially as we would often try to conceal a horrible truth from ourselves, rather than face it. I can assure you of one thing: The superweapon existed. And it was used, not for warfare -- for it was not the sort of weapon that demanded a war -- but for pure destruction. The annihilation of the Hosnian System, of the Senate, has already happened: _this_ was how it happened. That weapon was never intended to be used simply as a threat, to create fear, but to be _used_ , brutally and mercilessly.

“I was there -- I witnessed the destruction of the weapon. I don’t need to say more. Some of you are old enough to remember. The rest of you know our history…

“ _It is happening again._

“I know some of you lived during the days of the Empire. Some of you remember what those of us who are younger have only been told stories of. We have been told of a _‘looming shadow’_. A _‘constant threat and insecurity’_. Some of you knew how it was like to live under that shadow for years and years, not knowing if any help would ever come to you, not knowing if that one, almighty ruler would ever hear your prayers. If he would ever care. Some of you know how it feels to live in a galaxy with no freedom, where everything is decided by some greater power who is under no obligation to listen to his people. Some of you have experienced to live under the Empire’s reign. And those of you who did will _know_ why it _cannot_ happen again.”

Poe paused to take a deep breath, a single drop of sweat trickling down his face; and in that brief moment his words seemed to echo through the silence on the town square.

One of them was Finn, who stood silently, paralyzed by his friend’s words. The people were all frozen, but the looks in their eyes were changing. In some, he thought he saw shock, surprise – in others it was horror, or simply a growing suspicion. 

Poe looked one time over the entire scenery, then continued with a regained strength in his voice. 

“What we know have is nothing. We have disorder. We have perhaps the greatest insecurity for the future of the galaxy we’ve seen so far. But in that insecurity is hope – and it is a chance that we _cannot_ allow to die. We have hope… hope for things to change.

“The Republic has been shattered to pieces, and what’s left of the Senate is scattered to the winds. The ruthless First Order and their leader is getting still more power and soon their power will be great enough for our freedom to seem but a lost dream.

“There is something that _we_ can do – one thing, that is as simple as it is complex. We can refuse to surrender. We can refuse giving up the freedom that the Civil War made us pay for so dearly. We can honour our lost ones by refusing to give into the kind of rule that took them away from us.

“ _We are the Resistance._ And we will fight for this cause with every drop of life in our bodies, for there is no life when you live under this kind of suppression. Having no vote. Having no voice, knowing that the only government will punish you for speaking out loud. Fear, insecurity, for yourself as well as your loved ones. I don’t think of that as a life. So I fight. And I will continue to fight until we succeed. Until we have claimed back the freedom that has once again been ripped from us. I will fight, and I will continue that fight even if my life is lost for this cause. I will _know_ that my life, as well as the other lives that will be lost, and those that have already been, will not have been lost for nothing.

“I want you _all_ to join that fight. To resist the ruthless power that threatens to break us. Join the fight _now_ , for it is now that our chances are greatest – to _stop_ them before they get the chance to break us and gain even more power. There is _no more time_ to spare. If we want to prevent the First Order from taking away the freedom we have left, then we must do it before they succeed in becoming invincible. Follow your hope. _Take_ the chance. Join the fight. _Our chance is now._ ”

No one had said anything to interrupt while Poe was speaking. Not a word, and barely a sound at all, except for his voice.

Their task had been simple, really. They had been meant to make these people listen. And Finn knew that the people assembled here were listening. All of them.

The first person to break the long held silence was a woman – the same old woman that they had passed in the streets earlier, her stance suddenly prouder, her deep eyes brighter. Her gaze was directed at them, standing on the podium, and she said, “Are the senators truly all dead?”

Her voice was dry, barely a whisper. It was full of doubt and… _wonder._ As if she found it hard to fathom a devastating truth. 

“It is possible that some senators who were not on Hosnian Prime in that moment have survived,” said Poe. “But if they are, we still haven’t received any message or transmission from them. Not a word.”

A young, dark skinned woman wearing a scarlet robe, long necklaces dangling from her neck, stepped slowly forward with something like caution. “So you are a part of the rumored Resistance. Under the command of Senator Leia Organa.”

The pilot met the woman’s gaze. “Yes. We are.”

She looked at them with wide eyes. “I was never sure the Resistance was real.” Her expression was inscrutable -- she could have felt shock or wonder, doubt or suspicion. “We owe the Princess much… all of us.”

A few people nodded; some of them straightening their stance, as if suddenly alert. Respectful.

“Are you brave warriors, then?” The light voice came from a girl with thick brown hair and a curious look in her dark eyes. She couldn’t be older than nine or ten years.

“Warriors?” said Poe, a smile ghosting on his lips. “You could say that. But on the other hand, I’m just a pilot. Finn,” he said, gesturing, “and I are ordinary people, just like you. I don’t believe you have to be a great warrior in order to achieve something that’s great. In order to make a difference. You don’t have to be legendary to be a hero.”

The girl fell silent then and looked away, apparently lost in thought.

Then another person stepped forward from the silent crowd. He was a human male, and a charismatic one at that. Presumably about thirty years old, he was tall and broad shouldered beneath the violet robe he wore – the kind of figure that would take up considerable space in a room. The look in his steel grey eyes was sharp as he spoke:

“You talk about the past. You talk about the said tyranny of this newly established Order.” Finn couldn’t help thinking he made it sound so insignificant, like it was a minor trading company or something. The young man continued, “Now tell me, pilot -- how can we know if this is really the threat it appears to be, and not just the new times that many of us have dreamt of? You ask us to go into battle, to face this new enemy of ours, to risk our lives; but how can you be so sure that this is our dark past is being repeated? Tell me,” he said, raising his voice so that everyone in attendance would be able to hear him, “Where is your _proof_?”

Before Poe could get a chance to answer the man himself, an older man with long, feathery white hair raised his voice to answer, and even raised a staff in the direction of the younger man to mark his words.

“Proof? Hah!” he snorted. “So you want _proof_ that our golden system is falling apart – if that has not happened already? You speak with the naivety that characterizes young people. Have you not heard a word this man has spoken? Have you not heard word of the destruction of the Hosnian system – countless lives lost in a brutal massacre; rumors which we now know to be the _truth_?” 

The expression on the old man’s face turned darker. “This weapon was no doubt inspired by the feared Imperial Death Stars – a revival of a time most of us long to forget! What happened was the exact same thing that happened then, with the vicious destruction of Alderaan -- albeit in an even larger scale. As if that was not proof enough for us to face the fact that we are all in great danger!”

“But people also say that _Resistance_ pilots succeeded in destroying that superweapon – that they blew it into fragments, without further loss of many lives” the young man said coolly. “Which means that, right now, there should be no significant risk --“

“The annihilation of our Senate was one thing!” a middle aged woman shouted from across the square, causing many heads to turn. “Not only was it an act of sheer evil; it showed clearly that this First Order is _ready_ to use such devastating means as part of their conquest for power! Billions of lives have been lost already, and for no specific purpose whatsoever -- which can only lead us to believe that they will have no qualms about doing it again. They have shown themselves to be as ruthless as the Empire!”

The confused murmurs – that had stirred throughout the crowd and grown continuously louder during the discussion – now rose to a chorus of voices, hostile comments and remarks cutting through the air like blades. 

_“Our world will be left to the mercy of those beasts!”_

_“The Republic never came to our aid anyway! When did the Senate ever do some good for our galaxy?”_

_“The entire government was rotten! It would only have been a matter of time.”_

It seemed that almost every being on the square of Rósachen had something to say, some opinion to use against another. 

Finn noticed the orange body of BB-8, rolling frantically back and forth on the cobblestones, presumably trying to fathom the behavior of these clusters of humans – a bewilderment that Finn, for the moment, understood to a certain degree. 

He couldn’t tell if any people had left the square unnoticed in the meantime, but thought it was likely. People all around the podium were moving frantically about, either trying to hide among the other townspeople or attempting to draw people’s attention; a thing that was only achieved, it seemed, by shouting louder than the person standing next to you.

He tried to catch Poe’s attention, but the pilot stood with a frozen expression, watching the people in the square with an empty look in his eyes, utterly inscrutable. 

A matte feeling crept through Finn’s body as he turned his gaze skyward. 

It seemed to be already darkening, though it couldn’t be more than a few hours past noon. Clusters of clouds were gathering above the town, drifting in from the towering hills that surrounded it, and from the unknown wilderness beyond.

A resoluteness started to form in his mind; a knowledge that he had to do at least _something_. It was, after all, what he was here for. And he knew there was something specific that he, and perhaps he alone, could do. At least at this point.

Before the thought had fully completed itself in his mind, his instincts chose to act. He walked to the middle of the podium where Poe had stood just before, the pilot stepping away automatically to make room for him. Then he cleared his voice.

“Excuse me --”

The crowd did not respond at all; their loud bickering completely drowned his words. Raising his voice significantly, Finn bellowed, “Excuse me! Silence, please.”

That appeared to work. Some of the people who stood closest to the podium heard him, and fell silent. As a wave going through the crowd, others quickly followed and went quiet as people stopped in the middle of what they were saying. All pairs of eyes, one by one, turned toward Finn. 

He cleared his voice once again, and said, “Before, you heard a man speaking who’s been ready to fight most of his life. There are many of those like him; people who can act from hope -- yes, maybe because they’re young. But most importantly because they dare to believe. Because they believe in a better future for us all, and it’s that belief that makes them invincible. They fight, and they _do_ become heroes. Because they _believe_.”

Finn paused briefly, and swallowed hard before he continued, “I was different. Until very recently, I was a stormtrooper in the First Order’s army. I was taken from a family so early in my life that I don’t remember my parents’ faces. I don’t remember anything but the First Order – no life besides the life they gave me and my comrades, a life of training and obedience. It was the sort of training that all stormtroopers were raised with before being sent into battle: All of us, throughout our entire lives, were trained to die. 

“None of us believed that anything could be different -- why should it? None of us had ever been _taught_ of anything different. You must all understand; we were not supposed to be individual beings. Such a thing would only be an inconvenience. Why teach people to become _humans_ when they’re only trained to be slaughtered on some faraway battlefield, anyway? So we never learned of a different future. We were never taught of such simple things as hope.

“I don’t know why exactly I was different. I don’t know why it should be that _I_ got the chance to escape when no one else did. I got a new chance -- of life, of hope -- though I sometimes believed maybe I wasn’t meant to have it at all. Then later I came to realize that maybe we _all_ deserve such a chance. A chance of belonging. Maybe we all have it somewhere, that little speck of courage. That little spark of hope. That’s all you need, really. No matter what, I intend to use the chance I was given -- if only on behalf of all the people that never realized.

“All of you have a choice, and it’s a simple one, really. You can choose to surrender to the greater power that _will_ inevitably come to face you, to claim your freedom. Or you can choose to _use_ the chance you’ve got, to help change the future to a better one – the future most of us dream of. If we surrender to that greater power already, then they’ll have won before the fight has even started. Then we _will_ be nothing. If it comes to a fight, then at least the victory will remain undecided for as long as we refuse to surrender. I ask you to resist the First Order’s control, for one thing’s for damn sure -- from now on, their power will only increase as long as no one dares to stand against them. Fight against that control, whatever it takes. 

“I don’t know any of you – I don’t know your personalities, families, lives. But I know that the First Order is a government that will crush our freedom and our dreams, until they succeed in taking away our hope. Because that is _what they are_. They take the lives of people and make them into non-lives without real meaning or purpose. Trust me -- I’ve experienced it for myself.”

And then, finally, Finn had said what only he could say. He had completed it, and now he could only hope that it would prove to have any kind of effect – that _any_ of the things they’d said would affect these people.

The aftermath of his words was a silence even thicker than before, so heavy that it felt like a looming presence; not a roar, but the absence of it, still reverberating through the people who were gathered on the square. 

He could sense Poe’s eyes on him, and turned to meet his gaze.

The pilot’s expression was inscrutable, but Finn thought he could see something like wonder in those dark eyes. Was it surprise – or something else entirely?

A sudden rustle of sound made him turn his head again. As the only thing breaking the heavy silence, it seemed like something truly monstrous, though it was really just the sound of footsteps on cobblestones. 

A woman – probably in her mid-twenties, though something in her expression seemed far older – stepped forward, parting from the surrounding crowd of townspeople. Her figure was slender, almost delicate, with pale skin and light braided hair that was partially covered by a heavy shawl she wore over her head. 

She looked up at the two on the podium and it was almost as if her knowing eyes could see all the way through them, as though they were transparent like glass. Then she spoke, with a surprising strength in her voice that seemed to underline her words.

“How could we ever be strong enough? This Order possesses forces beyond the imagination of most of us. If they grow endless legions of soldiers, fleets of starships – if they could build a weapon powerful enough to crush an entire starsystem into oblivion… How could any of us hope to stand against that? Your so-called Resistance – a simple rebellion like such could never lead to --“

The woman went suddenly silent as a roar sounded so deep it caused the ground to shake beneath their feet, drowning her words. Many people looked up as the yet darkest shadow rolled across the sky above their heads. The clouds were massive, and so impenetrable they covered the sky completely, reducing the daylight until it was dark like the blackest night.

A deeply unsettling feeling crept through Finn – a sensation of sheer _wrongness_ that he saw mirrored in the faces of many others.

The young woman raised her voice, determined to speak. “There is more! Have you not heard the rumors? Some people tell stories of the darkness that will overcome us -- they have already _seen_. _They_ will come, the dark Knights with their bleeding blades of light, their faces hidden behind masks of the unhuman --”

But it seemed that everyone had ceased to listen. Shortly after, a single scream rose from the crowd, the sound cutting like a blade. The screams of fear began to multiply as another sound, one that was utterly unnatural, tore the sky. And other people started shouting and pointing towards the darkened sky as swift starfighters as well as massive transport vessels materialized against the sky, even blacker than the clouds that had concealed them, appearing as from out of nowhere. 

They were types of ships Finn recognized far too well. 

The townspeople had quickly dissolved into a mass of bodies moving frantically away from the center – urged forward by fear, and the instinct that told them to simply _run_ the fastest they could. Before Finn could think, Poe grabbed his arm and hauled him along down the podium, across the emptying square, before disappearing down one of the streets now filled with people, as well as the heavy, unmistakable tang of terror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving some feedback.


	25. A Galaxy of Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rebellions are built on hope.

It seemed that the world had faded, vanished and then changed into a few, simple feelings.

There was darkness; the impenetrable black so unnatural for the time of the day.

There were the panicked sounds of beings running to seek cover.

There were screams, of people who gave up hope.

And there was the other, disturbingly familiar sound that told Finn just how much trouble they’d gotten themselves into. The deafening sounds of engines from vessels that he knew were already landing in the outskirts of Rósachen, surrounding the town, spilling out divisions of troops who would walk a cold-blooded walk through the darkened streets, fill it with blaster fire, as well as the disaster that came in their wake. The few brave people who dared to resist, emptied of life with a single shot. All those voices suddenly silenced. 

He also knew that TIE fighters were currently circling in the air right above them. He didn’t look up.

He knew they were simply waiting for the right time, the right moment to begin firing.

They could hear those sounds of engines, even as another sound filled the air with a still increasing intensity. A wind howled through the streets -- a wind icier and more ferocious than any weather they’d encountered on this planet. The gusts of wind came with a still increasing force, so strong that many people in the streets were in danger of being knocked to the ground, the sound of it rising to a deafening roar. 

As Finn and Poe ran through the streets of the town, as to give themselves just the phantom of a chance where no chance seemed to exist, he was relieved to see many of the people actually appearing ready to fight. Many citizens of Rósachen, men and women of all ages, took their positions on the streets, readying blasters in their hands with a practiced ease. A cold-blooded nonchalance. Obviously, the rumors that these people were real fighters were not just rumors.

Quickly, the two of them turned down another street, this one nearly empty of people. The dominating sound was the howling of the wind. As they halted just a few meters down the road, warily turning around to look for anything hostile that might come this way, another thundering sound from the darkened sky shook the ground beneath their feet. 

Poe looked at Finn with wide eyes, finally showing something like anxiousness – fear. A mirror of how Finn felt himself. This strange weather could be no terror of the First Order, or any living beings. No matter how peculiar and wrong it felt, it _had_ to be a natural phenomenon. An unconquerable force beyond the will of mere beings, and the fact that it was, in any case, _inevitable_ , made it only so much more horrifying.

Poe reached for something in his jacket, and produced the two DL-44 blasters they’d had along with their equipment – that he’d apparently been carrying on his person this whole time.

Poe handed one of the weapons to Finn, who watched his friend with something like amazement. “I can’t believe you actually thought of bringing these.”

“In other words, you’re terribly glad I did since you obviously didn’t spare it a thought,” said Poe, and, despite everything, flashed a crooked smile. “Can’t hurt to be prepared.”

Just then, a wooden door swung open behind them. They both whirled around, blasters raised, but the dark hallway beyond the door seemed to hide nothing but shadows – and then, a pair of eyes in the dimness, brightly glowing within the frame of a delicate face.

The woman in the doorway waved them inside with a slender hand, softly murmuring, “In here. Quickly.” The two men obeyed, almost per instinct, following her inside. 

Just as she was about to close the door to guard them against the hard wind and the stirring chaos outside, a little figure came rolling towards the opening so fast that it appeared only as a blur of orange and white.

Recognizing the droid, Poe instantly lit up. “There you are! BB-8, get in here!”

BB-8 finally made it into the hallway, colliding violently -- and obviously on purpose -- with Poe’s legs before coming to a halt. The little mechanical body rolled back and forth, blabbering hysterically in Binary.

“Poe, come on now,” said Finn, but the pilot didn’t appear to be paying attention.

“Yeah, I know, I know -- listen, I’m sorry we left you behind --” Poe said, obviously not listening. His words didn’t do much to calm the indignant droid.

Finn looked up at the human woman, and, for the first time, noticed her features clearly. 

She seemed… oddly young. The tan skin of her heart-shaped face was smooth with no signs of age – she couldn’t be much past thirty. However, her straight black hair was already streaked with strands of silver, and the expression in her eyes was that of an older person who had witnessed already far more terrible things than a person should. 

She led them into a room almost as dimly lit as the hallway. A crudely crafted wooden table stood in the center of the room. On the table stood a holo-projector emitting a vague blue glow, which the woman quickly switched off as they entered.

Finn opened his mouth to enquire, but she put a finger to her lips, gesturing for him to be silent, her eyes wide and alert. For a while, she appeared to be listening carefully -- for what, he did not know. Then, after a moment, she brought down her hand and, with her sharp gaze, addressed them. 

“You must leave. Go, far away, before they realize members of the Resistance are within their range.”

Poe objected, “We cannot leave Rósachen in a situation so crucial. So dangerous. Not when we…”

Her dark, melodic voice softened, though her eyes were still entreating. “You mustn’t think you brought this upon us. This town holds a key position. The First Order has had Eriadu under their radar for some time. We’re always preparing for fight. And most of us – those who are still capable of thinking somewhat rationally – have been preparing for this day. We knew it would be a matter of short time, especially after Hosnian.”

Finn’s head had been filled different voices blaming himself, then trying to reassure himself the attack _couldn’t_ possibly be because of them -- yet as she said those words, confirming it, he simply wanted to ask her _why_ , how she could _know_ so much.

“Who are you?” he said instead.

She merely smiled. “Someone who wants to help the right people, whenever she finds herself able to. That’s all you need to know.”

“Still, we should help the townspeople against the Order’s troops,” said Poe then with a frown, unwilling to concede. “You will need all the people you can get.”

“Your help would be valued, but it would make little difference on a greater scale. If we lose to this incursion into our town, we will lose as the proud fighters we are -- and I’ve a feeling you are both needed elsewhere.

“Your story is yet unfinished,” she said, suddenly firm, dark eyes locking Finn’s gaze. “You still have work to do.”

Before they could object to any of it, she walked across the dim room towards another door that Finn hadn’t noticed earlier – nearly invisible, made to seem simply part of the surrounding wall. She pushed a hidden panel in the wall, which caused the door to slide aside and create an opening. The door appeared to lead outside, a gust of cold wind instantly sweeping in through the opening. She walked out without looking at them, and they both took it as an invitation to follow her outside.

“Sorry for asking,” said Poe as they stepped out into the darkness, the wind instantly chilling Finn down to his bones, “but _how_ are you planning to help us?”

The woman waved her hand toward something nearly hidden by the encompassing darkness. And Finn suddenly noticed something new about the open spot where they were standing.

It was a _hangar_ \-- a hangar placed right in the middle of the town.

A small hangar, but still large enough for the single vessel they could see. It looked to be a small six-person transport – which was quite a lot more than they might have expected. 

He couldn’t believe it. That this woman was ready to give up her ship to complete strangers, not knowing if she would ever see it again…

She walked closer, and said, “It isn’t much, but it’s the ship I can give you. This model is quite stabile – and I suppose you know how to fly it, pilot.”

There was something in her voice when she said the last words, and Poe watched her curiously. “Do you know who I am?”

She smiled. “I have heard, from a couple of sources, that it was a pilot named Poe Dameron who destroyed the First Order’s super weapon. That’s all I know.”

“We could never thank you enough for this,” said Finn, genuinely. Then he asked again, but with no less curiosity, “Why are you helping us?”

“You did us a great favor today,” she said simply. “More than you perhaps realize. And this ship – it’s a small way for me to return the favor.”

She smiled faintly, then did something unexpected: she held out her left arm and pulled up her long sleeve so that her bare wrist was exposed -- as well as the black symbol, stark against her skin. 

A symbol that had been tattooed; engraved into her skin:

It was a starbird -- the old symbol of the Rebellion. 

A symbol of hope. A call for freedom.

“This is what I carry with me,” she said, softly, though her eyes blazed with a fierce fire. “This is the hope I fight for, fight with, at all times. I trust you, for I know that you fight for the same hope. So let me return the favor. Let me help you, so you may continue your fight.”

She turned back to face Poe, her eyes glinting in the darkness. “You must leave now. Before the storm makes it impossible to launch.” As if the weather wanted to accentuate her words, a strong gust of wind roared through the hangar just then, with a force that nearly knocked them to the ground. With some difficulty, Finn remained standing.

“This weather is devilish,” said the woman, gazing darkly at the sky. “A peculiar storm that has been foretold for years, though few believed it would actually come. It seems we’re once again to be proved incredibly naïve in our human superiority.”

BB-8 had already moved up the lowered ramp to the transport, and the two of them were about to follow when they heard the sound of blaster fire unnervingly close to the small hangar, followed by screams. They stopped dead.

The woman ushered them forward. “Go! Chaos will come if anyone sees you here.” They thanked her once again and were about to leave when she added, “But – may the Force be with you. For if we haven’t got faith, then what do we have left?”

It seemed to be a question that didn’t demand an answer. 

In that very last moment, Finn wanted nothing more than to ask her, their savior, to come with them -- follow them to whatever safety they could give her, however brief and uncertain. But the words never came. And with the knowledge that she would most likely never accept the offer, that she would probably rather die than leave her hometown to the mercy of its attackers, he remained silent.

They hurried up the ramp and into the blank interiors of the ship where BB-8 waited. As Poe continued down to the cockpit, Finn hit the panel that would close the ramp. Just before his view of the darkness outside was shut off completely, he saw the woman draw out a blaster from the folds of her gown. Then she hurried out towards the open streets where battle raged, her long hair billowing behind her.

He couldn’t help a faint smile at the sight. Despite everything, it was good to know there were some – anyone – who were still capable of that kind of courage. Idealists who knew too much to simply surrender. He didn’t know if the people of Rósachen would even stand a chance against the First Order’s troops – he knew they most likely wouldn’t, in the end.

But now, at least, they would take some with them as they fell. 

He quickly strode past BB-8 as he walked toward the cockpit, down a brightly lit passage, finding Poe already in the pilot chair, busily occupied trying to read the ship’s panels. 

“You think those TIEs will fire at us?” asked Finn.

“They will, if they’re by any means able to. This weather might actually prove an advantage, as much as it’ll cause us trouble -- if these clouds are heavy enough to conceal us, they won’t be able to target us properly.”

Poe activated the last switches that would get them into the air, and the engines responded by humming as they flared to life. Then, in one fluid movement, the transport left the ground, soaring into the sky.

Finn only had time to notice how much more pleasant it felt to fly with a ship built in this same century, when he suddenly saw movement behind them flickering on the screens. A moment later, they felt a shudder in the ship that couldn’t be caused by turbulence. The TIE fighters had started their pursuit of the escaping transport.

_Damn it._

“Take the gunner’s position," ordered Poe. "Shield's still fully functional. We can match these."

Gunner’s position? Finn wondered. Such defenses were unusual for this type of ship. However, as he rushed back down the transport’s corridor, he instantly found it -- apparently someone had though to do some slight modifications to the ship, he thought with a grin. 

He got in the chair, hoping the systems in this ship were at least a bit like those in the _Millennium Falcon_ \-- or a Special Forces TIE fighter.

_Missiles – cannons… trigger to fire._ He had this.

Another observation came from Poe over the crackling comm, “ _We’ve lost one of them in the clouds. There were only two from the start, but it seems this last one has taken personal offense._ ”

“Hold on… I see him.”

Finn watched on his screen as the TIE fighter came up close – fitting right into the small field on his targeting computer.

The TIE pilot fired two shots, both narrowly missing thanks to a swift maneuver by Poe. Finn locked the cannon in position for the fighter’s cockpit, and fired.

It hit target.

“ _Nice hit, pal,_ ” it came from Poe.

Slowly releasing a breath, Finn got up from the gunner’s chair and returned to the cockpit.

Now, the enemy fighters eliminated, Poe seemed to be struggling with a different issue -- the weather. 

Only clouded darkness was visible through the viewport. The vast blackness was so complete that it was difficult to tell where the horizon ended and the sky began, and the turbulence was heavy enough to be a significant challenge for the ship’s stabilizers. 

“We’ll need to get above these clouds to exit the atmosphere,” Poe murmured. “Shouldn’t be long, but damn, this storm is massive.”

The pilot frowned in concentration. Finn remained silent.

It didn’t take long, though, before the ship released itself from the dark layer of clouds, and soared into the astonishingly clear sky above.

Following its course straight ahead, the small transport continued until they were free of the Eriadu atmosphere, surrounded by the calming darkness of space.

As Poe set the coordinates that would take them back to Dantooine, and the ship was surrounded by the bluish waves of hyperspace, Finn leaned back in the co-pilot’s chair with a sigh. Not that they would be in need of a co-pilot now (and not that he would be of much help if it came to that).

He thought of the woman who had offered them this ship to escape -- who, despite her age, had already been hardened by life and the world they lived in. They hadn’t even gotten her name.

Why, exactly, had she helped them? How did she know who Poe was? 

Maybe he'd never know.

He then thought of the people gathered on the town square in Rósachen, and wondered whether they’d actually made a difference. Had it been adequate? Would their words mean anything at all to these people in the future? That would be if anyone were to survive the First Order’s incursion -- but he forced himself to believe they would. Even the First Order would find it inconvenient to slaughter an entire town just for example -- so he tried to convince himself. Whatever became the planet’s fate, he prayed some at least would escape.

He noticed that Poe had fallen very silent beside him.

“Hey, Poe?” he said quietly. The pilot turned toward him. “That was one hell of a speech.”

His friend smiled wearily, his eyes bright. “You’re one to talk.”

Only time could tell whatever difference they might have made, Finn thought then -- and if they had made any at all.

_________________________________

The small vessel reached the Resistance base on Dantooine in short time, and they were immediately guided into one of the smaller hangars -- almost as if they had been expected.

As they stepped out from the transport, they were met by Snap Wexley, a member of Poe’s X-wing squadron, who smiled broadly at the sight of his friend and colleague. 

“Poe! Looks like you found your way back to us -- all in one piece, apparently.”

Poe smiled as well. “Snap -- everything calm ‘round here?"

"You know all the exciting stuff only happens when you're around."

Poe laughed. "Maybe you're right. Our trip did take some unexpected turns.” To speak mildly.

“We just hauled ass from Eriadu,” he added. “Pretty urgent. Suppose we’ll have to speak later, Snap.”

Wexley clapped his friend’s shoulder, and showed them through a door in the far end of the hangar that would lead them into the net of corridors. “The General’s waiting for you in the assembly chamber.”

They soon stepped into the brightly lit room that served as a common meeting point in the base. The same place they’d been assigned their mission in the first place – though now, it was nearly empty of people.

Leia Organa stood in the center of the room, turning to greet the two men with a smile as they approached.

“Poe, Finn -- I am relieved to see you back here safely. We lost all contact with the _Republican_ shortly after your departure and expected the worst.”

“We did get into some trouble with the freighter, ma’am,” said Poe. “We returned in another vessel -- borrowed.”

“General Organa, I’m afraid our mission was cut short,” Finn said. “We did what we were intended to, but in only one of the planned locations.”

Poe quickly admitted, “Yeah, I fact we ran into… several kinds of trouble. I don’t think the trouble will have followed us back here though. The ship should be safe. It’s unlikely that the Order would’ve tracked us on our way back.”

The general simply nodded and watched them with her bright gaze. “I trust you to judge the safety of the new ship, Poe. We’ll have droids scanning it for any tracking or recording devices, just in case. We will evaluate your mission in detail later.” She smiled faintly. “Only time will show if this has been useful in any way... until then, we must simply keep our hopes.”


	26. Villainy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no emotion; there is peace.

They only had to reach the first broader, livelier street before Rey saw them. And given the circumstances; with her own constant wariness, and the bright sunlight of the day, she had to wonder how she could have completely missed them earlier.

From nearly every other merchant’s stall, and sometimes several in a row, hung copies of the same poster. The same weather torn, old fashioned posters – with images and insignia, description, over-the-top generous reward and all.

Wherever her gaze wandered, the same faces seemed to stare back at her from the yellowish paper, strikingly vivid. 

A gust of hot desert wind blew through the street. It caused Rey’s hood to fall down, and she quickly pulled it back over her head in an attempt to hide her features in its shade. 

Something else had been stirred up by the sudden wind – a piece of yellow paper that danced in the air for a moment before coming to rest on the ground at Rey’s feet. She could now look right down on the simple, exaggerated picture of herself, with arched brows and a challenging stare, almost as if the Rey on the poster was taunting her.

_Look – I’m here. Right among you, looking for trouble._

Real-life Rey thought she’d like to leave these open streets right away, and preferably _avoid_ any situation that might possibly be trouble. The best option was to leave Anchorhead behind them as quickly as possible – before something was bound to go wrong.

“Master…” she said.

“I’ve seen them,” said Luke simply, his gaze turned downward.

He made a sharp turn away from the wide main street, pushing through the clusters of beings moving in the opposite direction. When they reached the mouth of a narrow alleyway leading away from the bustling center, they began walking faster, putting as much distance to the dense crowd as they could.

“Wouldn’t it have been smarter – safer, to stay on the main street so we might, sort of… disappear among the rest?” said Rey, as she walked up beside Luke.

“It would,” he agreed. “But for now, most important thing is to leave the town as fast as we can. In the main street we’d be forced to move slowly along with the rest. In these alleys there won’t be many, not at this time.”

If this had been bound to go wrong, Rey thought, it probably already had.

They were getting closer to the edge of the town. They wouldn’t have to go much farther before the arched, sand coloured buildings would fade into the dunes of the desert – harsh, open, mercifully desolate.

They took another turn down an even narrower passage, forced in between the anonymous buildings flanking them on both sides – a place where even the sharp rays of Tatooine’s suns could barely reach down. Driven forth by the knowledge that they would soon be out, they both started walking faster. After a short while, it seemed like the alley widened ever so slightly. Feeling as though she could suddenly breathe more freely, Rey felt a sting of relief as the alley curved ahead, and…

And stopped. They both skidded to a halt when they saw what was at the end of the passage: a wall, shooting up from the ground just ahead of them.

Clearly, they weren’t meant to continue that way. What they’d assumed was the fastest way out had turned out to be a dead end.

Filled with a burning frustration, Rey had to stop herself from kicking the dusty wall. Why did it have to show up so… _inconveniently_? _Why_ had anyone thought of building a wall there in the first place?

She calmed herself, not entirely sure why it upset her so much. It would slow them down a bit, but surely, they could just walk back the way they’d come, find another way out of the town… 

That was when she sensed it – a faint, yet unmistakable difference in the very Force surrounding them. Like a sudden breeze disrupting the heated air, carrying with it a strange, disturbing scent that prickled her senses. Looking up, she knew that Luke could sense the difference too – his eyes were alert, and he was staring down the way they’d come, to whatever was approaching.

“We might have wished to do as you suggested, in the first place,” he said.

Rey pulled the dark hood away from her face, so she would better be able to catch the sounds of any approaching threats. Her body tensed warily as she stood with her back against the wall. Her eyes didn’t move from the passage.

Then, suddenly, it felt as if a cold mist was drifting, slowly, toward them, and, though invisible, settled around them like a veil, woven of quiet dread. And something… something _was_ approaching. 

Or, in fact, several _someones._

One by one, they appeared in the silent, abandoned passage. Rey thought they must have been tracking them for a while now, though, undeniably, it felt as though they might have manifested out of thin air. One by one, they walked closer, slowly approaching, fanning out as much as they could on the small space. And with that, her mind distantly observed; the wall behind them, close buildings on both sides and the strangers before them, they were hopelessly trapped. It was a clever move – however they’d been able to predict precisely which way she and Luke would go.

Maybe they had really appeared out of nowhere, she thought. That would explain why neither she or Luke had sensed them before it was too late… 

She frowned, wondering. Did these beings have a way of making themselves invisible, not just physically but _completely_ , masking their Force signatures to make it seem as though they weren’t there at all? Was it possible?

Rey quickly counted. There were five of them, but she couldn’t tell what they were – humans or other humanoid beings, male or female.

One of the things that caused them to stand out, she thought, was their clothes; they were all dressed in black so dark that it seemed to swallow the brightness of the day. They wore a sort of armour – clothes made of a light, yet impenetrable fabric. Some of them wore long, black cloaks falling from their shoulders; the cloaks seemed to sway lightly in the air, as from a faint breeze.

Something else was even: they all wore black masks that concealed their features, human or other, with a metal visor where the eyes should have been.

_I know who these are_ , Rey thought suddenly, a cold knot of dread growing in her stomach.

“Master Skywalker,” a deep voice sounded. “And… the girl – who is said to wield extraordinary powers. Truly, what an honour this is.”

Luke didn’t answer the one speaking – presumably the tall figure standing a bit ahead of the rest, the remaining four standing in formation behind them. Instead, Rey saw the handle of her master’s lightsaber, suddenly in his hand. With a singing sound, the saber was ignited, casting a flash of bright green on his face. 

Rey straightened with a sudden, stoic sense of calm. Moving closer to her master in a defensive position of her own, she drew forth her weapon from the shadow of her cloak with a fluid movement. And, with a tight grip around the metallic handle, she ignited her lightsaber.

The light from the long, golden blade filled the space around her, as that of the brightest day, mixing with the green of her master’s.

The black-clad warriors didn’t flinch by the sight of the Jedi weapons. They immediately moved closer to one another, creating an impenetrable wall. Then, the movement perfectly synchronized, hilts appeared in their gloved hands. With the crackling sound of an electric field, blades the colour of freshly shed blood extended from the handles. There were six of the red beams; one of the warriors wielded two shorter sabers – one in each hand – instead of a single.

“Five against two,” said Rey.

“This’ll be easy,” said Luke.

The first warrior spoke again – she thought it sounded like a man’s voice though it was difficult to decide; the mask’s visor deepening and distorting the being’s voice into something utterly unhuman.

“We are not here to fight you, Skywalker. We bring the word of our Master – and advise you to follow his bidding.”

“Your weapons speak differently of your intentions,” Rey said coolly. 

The tall warrior turned his head slightly in her direction, and she stared back into the gleaming metal where his eyes should have been. 

“We have come to bring you before our Master. Do not fear for your lives, for he wants you both alive.”

“ _Who are you,_ ” she demanded. The figure cocked his head, watching her, thoughtful.

“Ah, but we are the Knights of Ren. I thought you would know, of all people.”

Rey had expected nothing else, and what she felt as the warrior spoke was something different from surprise, but the embodiment of horrors she had witnessed only in visions until now still caused a shiver to run down her spine.

“Soon, everyone will know. And everyone will _fear,_ ” hissed the Knight standing on the leader’s left side. A dark, slow laughter sounded from the Knight on his right. 

Was Kylo Ren among them? Rey suddenly wondered, though at the same time, a voice rooted deeply inside her whispered, _No_. He couldn’t be. Not here; not now. 

She didn’t know _how_ , _why_ that little voice inside her thought so. It might have been hope; some frail, helpless wish. Any of those masks could be hiding his face. And yet not. 

She didn’t know what that voice was. She didn’t know how she knew. 

It was like a sense.

“Our Master – and soon, Supreme Leader of all citizens in the galaxy – has requested the presence you, both,” said the tall Knight, his deep, metallic voice plain. “What he requires of you, for what purpose, I am afraid we cannot say. It is a most special honour – but if you will not come by your own will, we will have to do whatever it takes. To make you… more inclined to cooperate.”

Rey’s mind felt empty, strangely light. She cast Luke a quick sideways glance. His expression was plain and inscrutable, revealing no reaction or emotion. But he had to know these warriors, she thought. After all, these were the Knights who had slaughtered the new Jedi Order, erased it from galactic memory before it could rise, and grow, and flourish as it had done in the past.

All of it, lost and gone.

Suddenly Rey was filled with anger and grief. _They_ were the people who had done it, by the order of their Supreme Leader. They had followed the one who had caused the annihilation, and they were here, right before her…

Right before her, to destroy.

She felt the rage growing inside her, building up as a wave ready to collide, clash against another force equally wild. Distantly, she heard Luke say, coldly, to the Knight:

“I have no interest in what your Leader has to say. Speak for yourselves if you will speak at all – but we will not follow you.”

The weapon seemed to hum in Rey’s hands, as if begging to be used. She knew the light-weight armour the Knights wore would not be impenetrable for a lightsaber… it would easily pierce the fabric, easily cut through skin and flesh and bone…

She suddenly felt as though someone poured icy water directly over her head. The red haze, the anger, slowly drained out of her, leaving confusion in its wake. It allowed her to clear her mind. 

She would not tap into her anger for strength. In the midst of battle, it might give her a reckless courage, unimaginable powers… she would be unstoppable. But it would never be worth it, she assured herself – not with what might happen after. 

It was not the Jedi way.

She could almost hear it then, a quiet, spiteful laughter. She tried to ignore it.

To act with the strength of such feelings – to use her emotions for mindless destruction…

Instead, she closed her eyes. Breathed out, slowly.

And _saw._

Once more she felt as though something warm, light and vivid filled her – starting as a bright star in her center, then slowly trickling out, to her every nerve, from her heart and to the tips of her fingers.

This wasn’t the blinding crimson haze of uncontrollable rage – this was brighter, clearer, and somehow much stronger.

Instead of veiling her insight, it made her able to _see_ , much more than what any human eyes might. At the same time, she felt her body become less tense, her position slowly shifting into one of calm.

The Knight said, “I am so very sorry.”

Though her eyes were still closed, Rey knew he’d moved slightly forward. 

She also knew that the five warriors had moved into position, creating a formation, that they’d have to fight their way through.

When one Knight made a move directly aimed at her, she flung her arms up, parrying both twin sabers with her own. 

Her eyes flew open, and she stared right into the featureless black that covered her opponent’s face. For a moment, the two of them stood locked in the position; her golden saber crackling against the two shorter blades. 

“Disable, not destroy. The Leader wants both alive,” a metallic voice said – in the turmoil, she couldn’t figure out which Knight had spoken – and chaos came crashing down over them all in consuming waves.

The Knight who had struck first must have recovered from the surprise, for they drew slightly back before attacking anew, lightsabers slashing and singing through the air. Again, Rey was prepared and met the twin sabers with striking precision, though the crimson blades came close enough to singe the flesh on her wrists. She couldn’t decide whether her opponent was male or female, human or another humanoid species, but they were undoubtedly strong. The attack had created a hole in the Knight’s defenses, and she didn’t hesitate before she aimed for it. 

However, another Knight immediately parried her blow. Rey frowned. The odds were truly rather unfair. 

Next to her, she knew Luke was fully occupied too, sending green sparks flying when his saber collided with the crimson blades. The deafening sound of lightsabers clashing echoed in the passage.

The Knights of Ren moved like shadows, like things made of night and wind, rather than flesh and blood. As though they were one being, they moved with each other, their movements methodic and synchronized, slowly forcing the two Jedi to draw back. Three of them had instantly surrounded Rey, and she did her best to occupy them, all the while hoping she could buy herself some time – to run, escape, whatever opening might appear. Though the Knights were superior in numbers, she held her ground. When one of them made a move against her, she sensed it, almost before it happened, and she whirled around in time to block the attack. 

Even with sparks flying around her and enemies wherever she looked, her mind felt clear. Not for a single moment did she allow herself to lose her concentration.

She realized then that all her training hadn’t been for nothing. Not only was her body trained for combat; she also knew that, by not losing her focus, she allowed another power to fight through her, alongside her. A power greater than any number of enemies.

She _felt_ the Force fighting with her, shining through her every movement and defense, allowing her to sense incoming attacks before they struck – in time for her to evade them, and prepare a counter-attack.

And she had another considerable advantage: the Knights would never strike to kill.

Always, they had to adjust their attack so they wouldn’t risk wounding her severely – which mostly meant avoiding her chest and abdomen and aim for her limbs instead. She didn’t have to be as careful – fighting against three opponents denied her the luxury of caution.

Eventually, one of the Knights – the one who’d attacked her first, the one with the twin sabers – bolted towards her, faster than it should have been possible for any living being. They held their red sabers down at their sides, ready to sweep them upwards and lock her in a dead position –

Rey realized, in the brief fraction of a moment, that she was done. A part of her mind registered the immense speed of the Knight, and knew she couldn’t possibly react fast enough…

At the same time, it was as though time suddenly slowed. _Stopped_. In that unexpected moment of clarity, she saw everything that would happen – realized the exact position of her attacker, the cold determination with which they were about to strike –

And somehow, impossibly, Rey reacted even faster. 

Before the Knight had the chance to reach her, to strike, she jolted forward, tightly clutching the hilt of her saber while pointing it directly at her attacker’s chest –

The golden blade wasn’t stopped by armour, nor flesh and bone. It went straight through the Knight, piercing their chest. For a single, shuddering moment that seemed to stretch into infinity, Rey stared into the black mask that hid features she would never know. Then the body, emptied of life, fell back and collapsed on the dusty ground, and she stood left with her blade still pointing forward in the air.

She didn’t get much time to linger before the two remaining Knights attacked anew.

They whirled around her like shadows, and she fought like a desert wind, striving to hold them back.

With her lightsaber, she managed to deliver a severe, though not deadly blow, cutting a deep slash into of the Knights’ leg, sending them staggering back. Before they had any time to regain their position, Rey raised her hand, palm exposed, and unleashed an incredible wave of energy with the Force in her, channeling through her hand and crashing into the wounded and unprepared Knight with a force like an avalanche. It sent them flying through the air until they hit one of the surrounding walls, head first, and collapsed on the ground.

Rey breathed in deeply, her ears filled with the hum of lightsabers, her vision stained by the coloured beams dancing and slashing through the air. A flicker in the corner of her vision distracted her briefly, and she automatically glanced to where Luke was fighting the two Knights next to her.

Her master was a whirlwind of fabric and green light himself. One of his opponents was limping slightly, she noticed, though it didn’t seem to prevent them from striking at full strength.

Rey paid dearly for not concentrating in that moment. The Knight who was still circling her did not hesitate; did not appear stricken by the fall of their comrades. She only had time to raise her hand to protect her face, when an invisible force as strong as the one she’d created thundered into her, slamming her several meters backwards and into the wall at the end of the alley. She felt her head jerking into the stone barrier with a cracking sound, and for a single, precious moment, her vision faded and blackened in pain. 

_Come now._ Now. _I can do this. We can win this._

She heard that inner voice, speaking encouragingly to her as she strived to regain her full consciousness.

She fought to remain standing, leaning heavily against the wall as the Knight approached her with predatory calm. They looked to be male, his figure broad and intimidating, his fighter’s stance mockingly casual.

Calmly, he flourished his long crimson saber – then raised it in an arc, preparing to strike. Rey’s mind still felt foggy, slow, and so she simply stood there, knowing in that fraction of a moment that she didn’t stand a chance of defending herself.

She knew he wouldn’t kill her – he couldn’t, not when his master had demanded it differently. Still, he would have to wound her severely, to somehow disarm her. _Disable_ her. Something that wouldn’t cripple her, at least not permanently…

Would they cut off one of her limbs, she wondered absently. Her hands? Her whole arm? She thought of Luke’s cybernetic hand, the hand he had raised to pull down his hood when she had first found him on Ahch-To… she now knew that he had lost the hand many years ago in a duel against his father, the dark Lord Vader…

The Knight came still closer. Though the black mask covered his face completely, made it completely inscrutable…

She could have sworn that it now concealed a cold, victorious smile.

She braced one hand flat against the dusty wall. _The wall._ Just before, she had seen it as something inconvenient, an obstacle standing in their way.

But what if… Maybe that barrier could be their only escape. An idea took shape in her mind.

Instead of keeping her eyes on the approaching enemy, Rey cast a sideways glance, and said, “Luke.”

He immediately caught her gaze, his eyes calm despite their situation, and she gestured with her head and mouthed, _Up._

That was all she needed to say. Without a moment of hesitation, he flung out his arms to unleash a sudden wave of energy. His two opponents, caught unprepared, went flying back, giving Luke the extra moment he needed. He looked up at the wall to calculate the distance, then bent slightly down in his knees, and jumped.

He flew up high in the air, almost as if he could ride on the wind. He landed on the top of the wall, nearly four meters up, and then… disappeared down the other side.

Rey took a deep breath. 

_If he can do it, so can I._

At least, that was how she tried to assure herself. She knew she had no time to linger, not with the remaining Knight coming toward her, despite the brief distraction. She looked up to the top of the wall, which now seemed an overwhelmingly high distance from the ground… she prepared herself, always keeping her gaze on the wall and not on the enemy closely behind her… she heard the humming sound of a lightsaber being swung down in a deadly arc – 

But then, she had _already_ left the ground – and it did really feel like flying. During the brief moments Rey was in the air, cloak billowing around her, she felt light and free as never before. Then she landed, light footed on the top of the wall, and instantly let herself fall down on the other side where Luke already stood, waiting for her in what seemed to be some sort of courtyard.

The wall began to vibrate ever so slightly – as though being met from the other side by an incredible force; on the verge of collapsing. She turned her worried gaze to Luke.

“It won’t hold them back for long,” he said simply.

He deactivated his lightsaber, and the bright green blade vanished. Then he raised his hand and held it out, palm toward the wall, and a moment later Rey felt rather than saw the thundering wave of energy erupt from his hand and collide with the already trembling wall.

The stones shook violently with the encounter. Then small cracks began to weave out from the center in a cobweb pattern, thin and delicate. 

With a deep, rumbling sound, the wall began to collapse. Right down over the heads of the enemy on the other side.

“This won’t hold them back for long, either,” said Rey.

Luke was already turning away from the chaos. “No, but it will give us a bit of extra time. Now, go!”

She forced herself away from the spot where she had been standing, frozen – then ran without looking back. From somewhere behind her came a single, unhuman scream – a piercing sound of frustration and fury.

They moved through a web of abandoned alleys and passages, always listening, always alert. After what seemed like an eternity, they finally reached the outskirts of the town, the light buildings and streets replaced by the soft sand of the desert. 

Rey bumped violently into a Nikto trader on his way into Anchorhead, and then hurried past the creature without saying an apology – he shouted obscene words after her for a considerable time even after she’d moved on.

A sharp pain sparked in her leg as they continued towards the ridge of dunes, in the direction where they’d hopefully find the _Falcon._ Until then, she hadn’t even realized she was wounded. She grimaced and clenched her teeth as the pain slowly increased, along with the throbbing in the back of her head. She couldn’t slow down.

As she ran through the heavy sand, Rey realized she was still clutching the hilt of her lightsaber, though it was no longer ignited, so tightly that her knuckles stood out white.

So far, no one seemed to be following them away from the town. Had the Knights ceased their pursuit? 

She didn’t allow herself to look back.

Rey wasn’t quite sure how she managed to keep up her pace, as she followed Luke over the ridge and across the sun baked wastelands to the place where they’d left the _Falcon_. When they could finally see the familiar freighter, her vision began to blacken. The pain in her head had grown continuously to a state where she could hardly think about anything else, but she simply increased her speed. 

The Corellian ship stood proudly and seemingly untouched, though that better not be the case.

“Have they had time to fix the hyperdrive?” Rey managed to say while gasping for breath as they entered the cool interiors of the _Falcon._

“I certainly hope so,” said Luke as they reached the cockpit and practically fell down in the chairs. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

Rey fought to remain focused and conscious as she prepared the ship for instant take-off. “Let’s just get off this planet before we have a Star Destroyer on our tail.”

She pulled the last switch and heard the reassuring sound of the old engines flaring to life. She pulled the helm, and watched as the _Falcon_ left the surface of Tatooine and shot into the sky, leaving the sand dunes and the town as little indistinguishable dots in the landscape. 

As they exited the atmosphere and entered the sudden darkness of space, Rey was already setting the coordinates that would get them back to Dantooine and the Resistance base. When she finally made the calculations that would initiate the jump to lightspeed, she tensed slightly in anticipation – 

But the hyperdrive worked. The starscape ahead of them seemed to stretch out into thin lines before the ship jerked forward into the blue waves of hyperspace. Rey slowly released a held breath. It had worked – and they were heading back.

_______________________________

Several star systems away, Izhel Ren gasped, clutching his chest as he felt a sudden, blazing agony searing through his heart.

He didn’t fall to his knees. He didn’t move the slightest from his position; he was a Knight of Ren, and he would follow the orders he’d been given, unwavering. The quiet exclamation remained the only sign of his pain, and then – as he realized – his grief.

There could be no doubt what had happened; already he felt the truth, down to the marrow of his bones, to the deepest well of his soul. 

Izha Ren had fallen.

His sister; his comrade in arms, the only being in the entire universe who was truly close to him, was dead.

And he felt the pain already caused by that sudden emptiness, her pain as well as his own, like a gaping hole in the core of his being that could never be filled – and already, he was saying his goodbyes. Already, he was attempting to let go. He would learn to live with the emptiness. To live with the pain. It was his duty, as a Knight.

And so, at last, Izhel Ren turned his gaze up toward the stars in the sky, and whispered under his breath, his last farewell:

_“There is no death; there is the Force.”_

_____________________________

When they moved out of hyperspace, they had reached the edge of the Dantooine system. Rey carefully steered the ship toward the gloomy surface – down where they could see the makeshift Resistance base, which seemed to have expanded significantly since their departure. 

She landed the _Falcon_ in the first hangar without complications, as most of the workers down there seemed to instantly recognize the Corellian freighter by sight. People from the hangars immediately began clustering around the ship as they walked down the boarding ramp, but Rey moved away a bit, not feeling like she could manage the energy for talking and answering countless questions.

She stood half hidden behind the _Falcon_ , trying to brace herself against the ship and breathe slowly, but her vision continued to blur, and darken, and fade. The throbbing in her head was overwhelming. Had she really hurt her skull so badly when she collided with the wall?

Luke stood only a few meters away, talking to some of the technicians from the hangar, though she couldn’t hear any of the words they spoke.

Then another face came into her vision; a mild face and a kind smile that belonged to a middle-aged woman who carefully approached her.

“Are you injured, dear?” said Dr. Kalonia in a soft voice. Rey tried whole-heartedly to answer, but as her lips parted, the world turned suddenly over and became a confusing maelstrom of colours and shapes, before it went entirely black.


	27. These Fragile, Beautiful Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'That was all there was. That was all she would ever have.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rather special chapter, but one that I personally really like. It doesn't follow the ongoing storylines, but describes the events of the past -- some of the events leading up to TFA as they may have happened, the way I imagined them. This chapter is built upon different head-canons that I've tried to fit into my story -- most of this is guesswork of course, as we don't know any of the details of the past yet...  
> (Some of it is inspired by hints in the novel 'Bloodline' by Claudia Gray.)
> 
> This is also a sort of 'intermezzo' between part two and three of the story. After this will be the beginning of whole new storylines...
> 
> Thank you, so much, for your continued support! Every comment means the world to me. <3
> 
> MTFBWY <3

_Who was he?_

_It was a question that had always been difficult to answer._

xx

_He was Ben Solo._

_Or he was Ben Organa, as many people would call him – naturally, because of his mother, the senator. He was Ben Organa, son of Senator and Princess Leia Organa, one of the heroes who had grown precious, lasting peace out of chaos – liberty and democracy out of tyranny._

_Then again, he was Ben Solo. Son of the piloting legend Han Solo – the lawless smuggler, then the warrior, the hero; the famous, daring general of the Rebel Alliance._

xx

He was Kylo Ren.

xx

_He was Ben Solo, and he wielded strange powers from a time many seemed to have forgotten. They had always been with him – the power to bend the fabric of the world around him; the power to do extraordinary things._

_They were the powers of an ancient order that had nearly been lost to oblivion. The powers of peace keepers with illuminating weapons; beings made of light, who would strengthen the light._

_It had been many years since the Jedi Order had vanished. But it would rise again. With the help of Ben, and others like him, who possessed the same extraordinary powers that he did._

_With the help of his uncle – the legendary Luke Skywalker, who had awoken those ancient ways and traditions from their rest._

_He, Ben Solo, would be one of the first. A part of the new generation of Force wielders._

_He would be trained in those old ways and traditions, trained to use and understand the luminous, eternal energy that was the Force._

The Force.

_He would become a Jedi Knight – a warrior, a bearer of light. A resurrection of something ancient; something that was nearly incomprehensible for most. The things of legends and fading memories._

xx

_Jedi Killer_ , they would whisper of him when he passed by.

xx

_He was sent away to be trained in the powers he possessed, to be taught in those ways of the Jedi by the only being left in the galaxy who could teach it._

_“Ben. Go with your uncle. He will tell you about all the rare things that you are – all the things that you will become. He’ll teach you what I cannot teach you myself… although I wish I could.” So had his mother told him when she sent him away. She had looked at him with a loving smile, her hand stroking his thick, black hair, her eyes wet with tears that he did not understand, not at that time._

_“Ben, always remember,” she had said, her voice soft and barely audible. “Always remember that we love you. I love you – your father loves you. More than you know. You are what’s dearest to us in the entire universe. Remember.”_

_They were the words that every loving parent would speak, the tears that every mother would shed when parting from her only child. They were some of the truest things that Ben would ever hear, though perhaps he didn’t truly understand the depth of those words._

_Not at that time._

_He sometimes came to wonder exactly_ why _his mother could not teach him herself. So that he wouldn’t have to go. So that he wouldn’t have to leave her at all._

_He knew that the Force – or the ability to use it – often had a way of following the lines of family. That way, Leia Organa ought to have the same powers within her as her twin brother, Luke Skywalker. That was how they finally passed down to Ben._

_But she never became a Jedi. Her loyalty had been with her duties, official and political. As princess of the fallen planet of Alderaan, heir to the house of Organa, and respected senator of the New Republic, she had taken on more duties than most, and always she carried more burdens than most people ever would – or perhaps should._

_In many ways, it was the complete opposite life of Ben’s father’s. Han Solo never engaged in politics, nor did he show any interest in understanding those matters._

_And so, Ben was never truly certain. Was he mainly his mother’s son, or his father’s?_

_Or was he someone else entirely?_

xx

_He went with Luke, and he became part of the bright, new generation of Jedi. He was one of the first. They were few, but they continued to grow, and would continue to grow still – they would become an_ order, _and they would soon get as much influence as they had in ancient times._

_Ben – and the other young ones like him – were taught and told of things most people had either simply forgotten, or had lost their faith in long ago, had it taken away from them by brutal reality. These were myths and legends embodied, come alive._

_And he quickly became_ powerful. _Luke Skywalker, a legend himself, taught them that the Jedi were not warriors. They were peace keepers above all – and though they had the abilities of warriors, they would only use them when most necessary. He told them not just of the Force and the light, but of the limits of the Force – the limits that every Force wielder should be careful not to overstep. He taught them the control that would help them to stay on the side of good and light; to keep away from the lurking dark._

_Alluring. Always present, always tempting, always deceiving the minds of the weak…_

_Powers, and greatness, came in many forms._

_Ben Solo possessed those powers, he knew that. He knew they would make him unstoppable. He was a part of the new generation; he would form the new Jedi Order. He might be the most powerful of them all._

xx

_Through it all, something else lurked, beneath the power, beneath the glory; beneath the layers of his mind only accessible in dreams, hiding in the darkest shadows of his soul._

xx

_He saw himself as a warrior – how could he not? Why should he not? He possessed the powers of the light, and he would become a bearer of those powers. He would become one of the few, the powerful, who would bring peace and justice to a galaxy that craved it so deeply._

_Yet, the shadow._

_Of course, at this point, he didn’t yet know_ what _the shadow was. The craving._

_There was a dissatisfaction within him, quickly rooting in his very core. He knew it within himself – there must be more. There was more. The shadow craved more, and so he craved it, too. Still, he could not tell the two apart._

_The longing was there. And it continued to grow, ceaselessly, within him still._

More.

xx

_Ben rarely saw or heard from his parents, and those messages only became rarer. Of course, he moved around, travelled to faraway places with Luke, his uncle and master. Non-delayed transmissions were nearly impossible, so the only words he got from his mother and father were brief._

_As he continued to have still less contact with his family, the shadows grew. So silently, so carefully that he didn’t even seem to notice the difference at first._

_They were but faint whispers in the dark. But they grew stronger – always stronger. They took shape and form._

xx

_It was a faint voice whispering in his ears. It came in his dreams; a dark mist slowly filling his mind, turning dreams into nightmarish visions. It terrified him, for he had never been able to find out what the shadows were, and now they felt powerful, alive… and yet it allured him. He wanted knowledge, above all – he wanted more._

_He never spoke of it to Luke, or any of the others. Whatever it was, it was his alone._

_There is more, the voice said._

_You feel it. The power._

_It is unlimited. It will make you invincible._

_The power is yours to seize…_

_Give in to it. Meet your destiny._

_Come. Come to me._

Come.

xx

_Ben would often wake up in the middle of the night, covered in sweat, breaths shallow and quick, his eyes wide open in terror._

_He didn’t know whether the whispers were real or imaginative. Within himself, he might know the answer, but the truth was buried deep._

_He had learned from his uncle, that for a person sensitive with the Force, such visions were usually not to be taken lightly… whatever they showed._

_He didn’t even feel certain whether the voice was his own, or if it came from outside, from another mind and being. The thought of another presence inside his head frightened him, disgusted him. He wanted to be free of it, whatever that was._

_And yet._

_The whispers continued. They became a clear voice, sounding in his head not just when he was asleep, but when he walked around during the day, wide awake._

_And what that voice spoke of… The doubts. The longing. The craving._

_Greatness. Power. The Force._

xx

_He had fought against the voice in the beginning. But he stopped fighting. He began to give in as it had told. He started to think of it differently._

_And the voice… The voice became a figure. An individual being. As it had truly been all along._

xx

_Some say the light is like a calm lake; flowing in slow currents, its surface unbroken and free of turmoil._

_The dark side is a fire. Once its flame is ignited, it cannot be extinguished. It cannot be tamed. People talk of_ controlling _it, of living in tandem with it, but being controlled is not part of its nature._

_The fire burns within you, and it grows. It whispers its commands, and for each time you obey, it burns darker. Wilder. Deeper._

_These ambitious people always have their own goals. To break free from the chains binding them. To save someone they love…_

_But the fire outlives them all. It consumes all, leaving nothing behind. Its hunger is insatiable. And you realize what you always knew, but never dared to admit to yourself._

_Because in the end, the fire is all you have left._

_The darkness is all._

xx

_The pain is unbearable, all-consuming. But the fire keeps burning, until everything you knew is reduced to ashes. Until all there is left to bear is your own thoughts._

_That way, the pain never truly ends. Within your mind, it is an ever tightening well of despair, and there exists only one way. When you fall down an infinite abyss, you have no choice but to continue falling. The shadows whisper to you that there has only ever been one choice._

xx

_He_ changed _inside, and surely, it had to be visible from the outside as well. Luke several times gave the impression of knowing_ more, _of being able to see right through the young man as though he were made of glass – to see he secrets he kept hidden, deep inside._

_But whatever much he knew, Ben’s master didn’t ever voice his speculations… And so the change continued to happen; the dark, new something continued to grow within him._

_And he knew he would soon have another master. The greatest of them all._

xx

_He continued to receive still fewer messages and holograms from his parents. That was nothing new; it was how it was bound to be with a family scattered across the vast galaxy._

_And there was something else. For a long time, he had felt as though his family – his mother, his father, his uncle – were keeping something from him. Something vast and terrible, a great truth kept secret. Something that might change everything. As Ben grew older, that feeling – the inexplicable sense of a truth concealed – grew within him. The living shadow made sure to confirm his suspicions._

_He would turn twenty-three before the truth was revealed to him. And it did change everything._

xx

_Darth Vader._

_The father of Leia Organa and Luke Skywalker. His grandfather._

_It explained_ everything. _The power within him. The craving inside him._

_Should he feel betrayed? He had been kept in darkness from that crucial truth his entire life. And yet he_ felt _the truth; a force inside him waiting to be unleashed, at last._

_At this point, he knew the shadow of his new master loomed above him, the endarkening whisper of it creeping into his mind and soul… but the part of him that realized it had also stopped caring._

_He would become invincible – how could it be any different?_

_He was the grandson of Darth Vader. The Dark Lord of the fallen Sith Order, and one of the most powerful who ever was. A figure of nightmares, feared across the galaxy for his brutal deeds, unfathomable powers. Anakin Skywalker, the Chosen One, who had turned into something truly dark, and truly extraordinary._

_He, Ben Solo, was the heir._

xx

_He continued to fall further away. Away, drifting, until he was completely cut off. From his family; from everything that he had been before, and everything he could have been._

_On the outside, his façade was near perfect. His new master showed him how to create the perfect deception. Deeply within himself, he had already renounced them all._

_He no longer had a family. He had only his future, his destiny._

xx

_The Jedi, the shadow whispered. They’re cowards._

_The Jedi, he thought. How foolish. How weak._

_They were too cowardly, too afraid to dare explore the true nature of the Force. Traditionalists who refused to accept the vast, inevitable truth._

_They were blind. Blind to all the things, all the secrets of the Force that they claimed themselves too decent to approach._

_He had felt that power; the power of the dark side. They would give him endless strength, as the shadow had promised, endless access to that ever-moving, unlimited energy. If he did as it commanded, it would finally sate his cravings._

_The days of the Jedi were over, even if they had not yet realized it. And he would bring their end, as it was his destiny. As it had been meant all along._

xx

_It was all prepared. It was time, at last._

_He had finally sworn his loyalty to his new master, the greatest of all. He had become a part of his new order, the circle of Knights, an order that held so much promise and potential._

_He had renounced his name as he renounced his family. His master had forbidden the old name to be mentioned within his Order ever again._

_He knew that Ben Solo was dead, and would never be allowed to return._

_From this moment, and forevermore, he would be spoken of only as Kylo Ren._

_Master of the Knights of Ren. Destined for greatness._

xx

_He had concealed his face behind a mask, so that nothing of the old Ben Solo would be allowed to shine through. His master, the shadow, had given his commands. And so, he marched, along with his new order, toward the end of his old._

_Toward the Jedi temple._

_It was the darkest of horrors happening in the blackest of nights, a darkness that allowed no stars to shine through, left no one to remember and tell._

_The proud temple was reduced to ashes. And the Jedi, the entire new generation, the young Force-sensitive beings who would have rebuilt and risen their ancient order, all killed. Murdered by the Knights; by Kylo Ren, who had once existed in their midst. By the incredible force of hatred and rage. In the annihilation, they were consumed._

_Murdered with the power of the dark side._

_Kylo Ren, heir to the Dark Lord of the Sith, had caused their doom. And as he looked upon the ashes of the temple, the lifeless bodies of his former comrades scattered under a starless sky, he shouted out with the force of the very darkness that now burned, wildly, in him:_

_“I DESPISE THE JEDI!”_

_________________________________________________

 

_“No!”_

_“No!”_

_“Come back!”_

_“Quiet, girl!”_

_“Come back…!”_

_It was all there had been. A glimpse of a transport that put still more distance to the sandy surface of Jakku, became no more than a dot of light in the sky, before it disappeared completely. The foul stench of Unkar Plutt beside her, his huge hand holding her little arm, as if to keep her tiny body from simply leaving the ground and following the ship, as she did in her thoughts, wishes, dreams – so that they would never have parted from her. So that they would never have left._

_That was all there was. That was all she would ever have._

xx

_Rey. She was Rey. A girl, a human._

_She was young – younger than anyone should ever be when surviving, alone, on the unforgiving surface of a desert planet was the only choice._

_She was alone, utterly alone from the moment the transport took off and left her standing in the sun warmed sand._

xx

_She_ had _nothing – and yet, still, she had something, and it was a thing that couldn’t be felt, nor seen, and it was a thing that no one could ever take from her. No living being but herself._

_And with that something, she couldn’t give up. She never thought of giving up, really, as an option. Why should she? Then she truly would have nothing left._

xx 

_She started working to keep herself alive._

_Surviving was what she owed her family. She owed them, at least, to stay where she had been left until the day they would be able to return for her._

_Surely, it had to have been but a fatal mistake. Something that no one could have foreseen, that had somehow forced them to leave her behind._

_Rey soon began to encounter many other beings on the desert planet. There were the merciless employers at the top of the hierarchy, who ruled in the lawless system that reigned on Jakku, and who wouldn’t hesitate to control and claim power over the lives of poorer people, for the benefit of themselves only. Those, like Unkar Plutt, the junk dealer, were people Rey bitterly despised._

_There were people like herself, who couldn’t leave the planet and who fought to survive in the harsh climate by nearly any means – those she understood, and some of those she even liked. Some were kind to her, though others were brutal and cruel toward everyone – especially a young, seemingly defenseless girl. And so, she soon became the very opposite of defenseless, and those cruel people eventually learned to leave her alone._

_Then there was the third group of people – those who travelled to the planet from somewhere afar, who came to Niima Outpost for trading purposes. How could anyone ever want to come to Jakku, Rey sometimes wondered. If they had a ship and possessions and people they cared for on another world far away? If they were free to choose?_

_Those strangers sparked her private speculations. What if her family had come to Jakku by accident? What if they had found themselves in an impossible position, dangerous beyond her imagining, forcing them to leave their child behind – to protect her? What if, what it, what if…_

_So that it wasn’t truly their fault. So that they would never have wished to leave their daughter on the desert planet, had they had any other choice._

_So that they would return for her the very moment they were able to, return from whatever part of the vast galaxy they were now. She simply had to wait, and hope._

_Always see light in things, never lose hope; even when things seemed darkest and most hopeless._

_The other possibility – the option that many would find themselves forced to face, a shadow looming in the back of one’s consciousness – was one that she never allowed herself to ponder for long._

_The thought that something might have happened to them – that they might have been killed; that they might be truly gone, wouldn’t do her any good._

xx 

_So she eventually stopped thinking it at all. Whenever such thoughts fought their way into her mind, she shoved them deep down._

_She realized that not worry or insecurity, but only hope, would be a force strong enough to keep her alive._

_Rey was grateful for the travelers. When she watched those foreign beings with colourful clothes, carrying with them a sense of strange and new and wonder, she found herself imagining how it would be to, one day, leave Jakku in a starship – to launch from the sandy surface and fly up toward where the atmosphere ended, to disappear among the stars in a universe vaster than she could fathom._

_Disappear, and never return._

_She created herself a life, a life built on the lightness of hope. She learned about all the different vessels that lay, fallen from battle, in the graveyard of starships. She learned how she could survive by scavenging the massive ships of the Empire and the New Republic that had crashed down in the desert many years ago and had been left forgotten ever since._

_Those vessels were useless for all but the scavengers of the desert._

_Rey, along with many others, worked for Unkar Plutt – and though she despised the hideous creature of a man, that was simply how things worked. None of them had a choice. Every day, she would work in the desert to scavenge parts that had somehow remained useful after so many years. Every evening, she would go to Unkar Plutt’s stall in Niima Outpost to exchange the parts for precious food and supplies. It was a strict hierarchy, a system that held all the poorer people in an iron-tight grip – impossible to escape from or work around. To survive, you had to make good of what you were offered from those more fortunate, no matter how little or how poor._

_Among the many scavengers in the area, Rey became the best._

_She was no longer a defenseless little girl. Although she had seemed to many but a harmless young human easily disabled, she soon gained a reputation._

_She learned how to fight for her survival. She became strong, fierce when someone tried to harm her or steal from her, believing that they could take her down easily, judging simply from her modest size. Rey showed them something different, and they would learn from their misjudgment._

_As the best scavenger, she also earned extra protection from Unkar Plutt. He made his thugs and other underlings leave her mostly alone – and they learned to respect her, as well as her trusty quarter staff._

xx 

_She one day found a fallen AT-AT walker left in the desert – half buried in sand, lying turned over on the side, as though it had simply given in to the exhaustion from battle and never risen again. For most people, it would seem a place ill fitted to live, or even an area for the living to be. It was awfully exposed and truly lonely; in the middle of the desert with its soft dunes, a place no one really came at all._

_To Rey, it was a sanctuary._

_She thought differently of the AT-AT, the way she truly thought differently about most things. Where other people saw a wreck from another time in the middle of the desert, she saw a potential home – a home that would be hers alone, that would be far away from any unpleasant eyes or unwelcome intruders._

_A place where she could survive on her own, and wait. Wait for the day when she no longer had to be alone at all._

_She managed to turn the fallen AT-AT into a home – a simple home, but one that she liked. She made a bed and a kitchen from different pieces of otherwise useless debris. She made her own homemade decorations out of spare pieces of fabric, simple things that could, if she was lucky, cause her mind to drift far away._

_Dream. Imagine._

xx 

“You’re so lonely. So afraid to leave. At night, desperate to sleep…” 

xx 

_Rey was often burdened by all the speculations. All the questions, the unanswerable ones that had become a constant part of her life._

_They didn’t come in the time of day, when she was busy working in the desert. They came later, at night, when her mind finally had some time to calm down and think, undisturbed._

_Why am I here? she wondered._

_Where are they?_

_Why haven’t they returned?_

_Will they return?_

_She would lie on her make-shift bed, trying to sleep, yet knowing that the soft darkness wouldn’t come to her easily. There were too many thoughts, all those infinite possibilities. She would hear the different sounds – the gusts of desert wind dancing above the sand outside. The rustle of movement from restless creatures hidden underneath the surface._

xx 

“You imagine an ocean. Oh, I see it – I see the island…” 

xx 

_Rey dreamed. Rey wondered._

_She imagined a thousand different worlds as vividly as though she had been there, as though she had travelled across the galaxy. Seen_ more. _She knew there was so much more to be seen than this, so many possibilities, and she could only anticipate the day when she would seize them. Find them._

_She dreamed about worlds of ice and snow and storms, worlds so cold that the cold suffocated those living there – something that she had never had the chance to experience._

_She dreamed of the Core Worlds that she’d heard travelers tell about – flourishing cities so vast they covered an entire planet… and even continued halfway down to the planet core. With buildings as tall as mountains, and light, everywhere, in a thousand different colours that never faded or died out. People and creatures from every world imaginable, gathered on one._

_She dreamed about the ocean. There was hardly a jarful of clear water to be found naturally on all of Jakku – yet the ocean was what Rey could imagine most vividly._

_Almost as though she was really standing on the harsh shore of rocks, gazing out over the wilderness. The massive waves rising and falling, weaving in and out of each other with the wind, inevitably colliding with the shore. The dark water never fell quiet; it was in constant motion, and yet the sense of it was as calming and steadying as anything could be._

xx 

_One day, Rey had found a flower shooting up from the dry ground. Surprising and unlikely as the sight was, she had stood for a moment, her gaze transfixed on the fine little thing. A thing that, despite its delicacy, had had the power to survive so long in the middle of the desert._

_She had picked the flower, and she had replanted it in a littler keeper which she placed inside her make-shift home. And she watered it with a bit of the precious liquid she had. It was the water she drank to survive, and so the little flower would also survive by its refreshing dampness._

_A month later, Rey had watched her flower as she returned home for the night. Stunned and puzzled had she discovered that only the finest laces of its petals had dried and withered. The rest of the flower stood still blooming, vivid and colourful, even after so long._

_“Such a fragile, beautiful thing,” she had thought. “And yet it can survive here.”_


	28. Farewell, Fair Cruelty

When Rey returned to consciousness, it was like drifting lightly in the wind; light slowly coming back into her view. She found herself in what appeared to be a medical wing. It was a low-ceilinged, long chamber cast in a pale, bright light.

Dantooine. She was back at the Dantooine base, with the Resistance. 

She carefully sat up, feeling dizzy though not really ill. She registered her surroundings. Everything seemed close to new, spotless in a way that seemed impressive for a make-shift base like Dantooine. Other simple beds, as the one she was currently in, were placed along the wall, all of them empty.

Different droids were calmly moving about, speaking in beeping sounds of various tones. Other sounds came from the different panels and machines in the opposite end of the room – machines that, to Rey, looked as complicated as the control systems of a Star Destroyer.

She tried to move, carefully testing the ability of her limbs. Her legs and shoulders were sore, but the pain was far from unbearable.

They had given her new clothes, although they bore resemblances to the previous. The boots looked the same, though these seemed new and slightly less smeared with mud. Her knee-length trousers were a darker shade of grey than the other pair, and the tunic she now wore was sleeveless and dark. The fabric felt surprisingly soft and light.

She tensed, instinctively, and reached for the lightsaber handle.

It wasn’t there. The belt the weapon used to be attached to was gone as well. For a moment, she felt a tiny surge of panic.

“Your weapon is in one of the drawers of the table next to your bed,” said a voice. “I thought it the best place to store it safely.”

The voice belonged to Dr. Kalonia, the medical scientist at the Resistance. The woman now wore a kind smile. She had entered the room through a door in the far end, and was now moving toward Rey’s bed.

“It’s good to see you awake. We were beginning to wonder how long it would take,” she said, placing herself on a stool next to Rey.

“For how long…?”

“You’ve been resting for a good while,” said the doctor, while checking a screen next to the bed, and then, finding the results the image provided to her satisfaction, nodded for herself. “It seemed you had acquired not so few wounds – though none of them were severe,” she continued. “The blow to your head was another matter. Though I believe the main reason you passed out in the hangar was the physical exhaustion. The bacta fixed the worst of the damage. Bacta therapy has a way of tiring the body further with the healing process, which is the reason you’ve been asleep for so long.”

While trying to process that information, Rey became aware of the bandages covering several parts of her body – her arm, her waist and her shoulder were the most significant ones. It was strange – during their fight against the Knights, she hadn’t sensed any pain or injuries. Those smaller wounds had seemed insignificant at the time.

Immediately, the image of the tall, dark figures with blood red blades surfaced in her mind.

Dr. Kalonia watched her calmly. “These injuries will need only short time to heal. They shouldn’t cause you any hindrances.”

“Thank you,” said Rey, earnestly. “For taking so good care of me.”

The doctor replied with a smile that wrinkled the skin around her eyes.

“Can I ask you something?” Rey asked carefully.

Kalonia’s expression didn’t change. “Of course.”

“Has – has anything happened while I was… gone?”

“There haven’t been any attacks, or anyone missing, if that’s the sort of thing you’re asking. Luke Skywalker has been here to see you while you were resting from the bacta treatment. And your friend, too, has asked to see you, though I must admit I kept him away and told him not to disturb. Told him off and forbade him to come here, actually, after I’d caught him sneaking in one time too many. But he was very insistent. He seemed very worried about you.”

_Finn._ A warm feeling of happiness filled Rey at the thought of reuniting with her friend before long.

She swung her legs out of the bed first, feeling a tingling and vaguely rubber-like sensation in them caused by her days of not moving. She carefully rose to her feet. Her head immediately responded with dizziness – she had to stand for a brief moment, waiting for the feeling to fade.

Kalonia watched her with some concern. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait a little while before leaving? You could have some food brought here for you.”

“No,” said Rey, appreciative of the offer but still determined. “I’d like to go. I appreciate it, truly – but there are people that I need to see.”

At the sound of the word ‘food’, she had felt a churning inside her empty stomach, but she could find that well enough by herself without demanding other people’s time and attention.

The doctor took out an object from the drawer of the small table next to her, and held it forward for Rey. “You might want this back.”

It was the lightsaber, still fastened to the belt. Relief washing over her, Rey accepted the weapon and tied the belt around her waist. Then she thanked Kalonia once again, and walked out of the medical wing and into the web of corridors that made up the vast base.

The corridors all seemed to be filled with droids, people in pilot’s gear or medical gear, or just plain clothes, hurrying in all directions – and once again Rey got the impression that everyone here had something to do. These were members of the Resistance, and so they had to be at all times alert and prepared. Here, this place, was the heart of the movement, and it constantly simmered with people and energy, the secrecy of it, and beneath it all a strange, frantic urgency.

But had it always been so big? she wondered, walking along with the streams of people headed to different places. So many of them – all gathered for one cause.

What she remembered from her days of being unconscious was blurred. She thought perhaps there had been images, visions, whispers… most of them too vague and indistinct to figure out. Maybe that had also been caused by the bacta.

Eventually Rey gave up trying to find her way, and stopped to ask some of the people passing by for the location of the dining hall. She soon made her way into a cavernous chamber that seemed, in fact, like it should have been too big to fit into the base.

It also seemed to be one of the most natural-looking parts of the entire place. The ceiling of the room was made from rock – she assumed that it was partially built into the rock formations that covered the planet surface.

Also, this seemed to be the only place where people did almost nothing useful (this was of course a relative statement, as Rey believed that eating was usually a very useful activity indeed). This was clearly a room for people to have their meals, and a place where they could socialize and spend time when they didn’t have a certain task demanding their attention. The room was surprisingly occupied. Rey suddenly realized she had no idea what time of the day it was – judging by her senses and the overall atmosphere of the room, she guessed that it was probably afternoon.

There where tables scattered about the hall, occupied by people in different uniforms. There were also droids here, circling about – among them one that she recognized very well. Small, coloured orange and white, it was circling a table with a large group of pilots at the opposite end of the room. And among those pilots was…

Rey quickly began to move towards that particular table. As she was half-way across the room to the well-known person in the pilot jacket, she called out, “Finn!”

Some heads turned in her direction; one of them belonging to her friend. Finn’s face instantly lit up with happiness and surprise. He rose from the table where he and others – among them Poe – were seated, and quickly erased the distance between them. They met on the center of the floor in a tight embrace, before he let go of her and watched her with a joyous smile.

“Rey! I can’t believe you’re here!”

He began asking a ton of questions and she felt it necessary to break in. “I’m fine, trust me.” She grinned back. “Really – I’ve rarely been better.”

And it was no lie – at the sight of her best friend, knowing that she was probably as safe as she could ever hope to become – it felt as though she was existing in some lovely dream. The insignificant pain that still existed seemed to give way to other things far more important.

“I was so worried when they told that you’d passed out,” said Finn. “I tried several times to come see you, but that doctor wouldn’t allow me in so I didn’t know – ”

“Finn! Finn, believe me – I feel _good._ ” Rey laughed, part from amusement, and part from pure joy of seeing him alive and well. “Kalonia told me it was nothing bad – and I’ve had more than enough time to rest now for sure. Oh, I can’t wait to tell you about… you wouldn’t believe what’s happened since we left!”

“I’ve heard the strangest rumors! That you and Skywalker fought against… And that you’ve become a Jedi – “

“It’s a very long story,” she said, her voice calmer. “And I promise I’ll tell you all of it – eventually. Maybe not right now – maybe not right here. But someday.”

He nodded slowly, a new light sparkling in his eyes. She thought he looked even different now from the last time she’d seen him. He seemed confident – changed in a way that she wasn’t sure how to describe. She also sensed there was a special reason for that… Or maybe several special reasons.

“Well, I’ve sure got something to tell you as well – _we_ have,” he said. “Rey, you won’t believe what’s happened – where we’ve been… I bet some of my tales can even outmatch yours.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“We’ll have to wait to find out, won’t we?”

He flashed a grin before returning to the table he shared with the group of pilots, and Rey went on a scavenger hunt around the hall to find something eatable. At last she was assisted by an astromech droid, who fetched her a full plate of food and some fresh water. Grateful, she accepted the food and moved towards a yet unoccupied chair at the pilots’ table.

“Jedi!” said Poe as she sat down. The pilot looked completely like his usual self, with tousled dark hair and a crooked smile. “Still in one piece?”

“Hi, pilot,” she said brightly. “Quite right. And how are you keeping together?”

“Perfectly as always. Some of us have standards to live up to.”

She raised a brow. “And do you?”

Some of the others at the table laughed, even though the atmosphere had gone slightly tense, hesitant. They had all fallen quiet when she’d arrived among them.

Rey’s eyes wandered briefly over them all. Among them, she recognized Snap Wexley, and a young woman around her own age whose name was Jessika Pava. Then there were several young men that she recognized but whose names she didn’t recall. One of them, the one sitting on her left, was blonde and blue-eyed and appeared to be in his mid-twenties, though he wore a wide, almost childish grin.

Apart from Finn, Poe and herself, there were six other people that she’d hardly ever spoken to, and, as she unnervingly realized, they were all looking at her. It wasn’t hostile stares – simply curiosity, mixed with awareness with some.

“You’re Luke Skywalker’s apprentice, aren’t you?” said Jessika, the only other female. “The new Jedi?”

Rey confirmed. The young pilot smiled.

“Is it you who’ve flown the _Millennium Falcon_?” said the blonde guy next to her. “With Han Solo himself?”

The tone in his voice indicated that he thought that to be a lot more impressive than being able to use the Force.

She nodded slowly. "Yes, well, – "

“And Chewbacca, the Wookiee?”

“Yes. But it was – "

“I’m Joph by the way,” he blurted, extending his hand. “Joph Seastriker. Longtime assistant and pilot in the service of General Organa.”

She shook it. “Rey.”

Joph grinned. “Yes, we’ve all heard about _you_. You’ve become quite a story here –“

“Is it true that you’re wanted?” Jess interjected. “Some say the First Order sent special agents to hunt down you and Luke Skywalker.”

_Special agents._ Thoughts and impressions churned in Rey’s mind, and she didn’t answer the question.

A moment of silence. Then one of the other pilots said calmly, “There are many stories about the Jedi Knights.”

A beat. He added, “Some of them probably aren’t true.”

Rey took a deep breath, and said, “You're right -- not all the stories being told are true. But many are. The Jedi… they were real. Vibrant, powerful, thriving.” She swallowed. “It wasn’t always like this. _I_ wasn’t always like this. And believe me, I’m far newer to all of… _this_ that any of you.”

She gestured broadly, indicating the hall and everyone in it, the entire base. She cast a quick glance at Finn sitting at her right – he smiled reassuringly.

Finally, it was as though all the people at the table slowly started to relax in their behavior, and again began to talk loudly and excitedly with one another. They no longer acted like there was a stranger in their midst. Rey felt a surge of relief and instant calm.

Poe leaned closer to Finn. “Did you bet?”

She looked from one man to the other with a raised brow.

Poe raised a brow in return.

“You know; we actually _have_ done some pretty wild stuff while you were away. You wouldn’t imagine the things – ”

“Well, now I’m deeply intrigued,” she said drily, though the words had in fact sparked her curiosity.

“ _Well_ , it involved our second crash-landing – “

“ _My_ second journey through a sad and desolate landscape,” said Finn.

“Actually mine, too,” said Poe lightly. “Also, Finn has done some… truly brave things. Surprising things.”

The pilot grinned and looked at Finn. Finn returned his gaze.

Rey looked away, feeling like this was some sort of private moment.

She listened to the relaxed chatter of the Resistance pilots – much of their conversation was quite simple; mainly they were playfully rivalling each other. Jess Pava – the only female in the group – was currently heavily arguing why her X-wing could easily outrun all of theirs. Rey immediately thought the other female seemed nice and sympathetic; she beamed with a vivid energy, and it was like some part of her was always zooming somewhere among the clouds. Rey found herself rooting for her in the discussion.

“During the assault on the Starkiller – “ Jess began.

“Yeah, you kept safely behind Poe the whole time,” said one of the pilots.

“No wonder you hardly got a scratch,” said another.

“I did _not_! I took more runs than any of you _moon jockeys_! Moof milkers!”

“Bantha brains?” said Poe kindly. “Imperialists?”

“Bucket heads?” suggested Snap.

“I thought that was me?” interjected Finn.

Jess sighed dramatically, and rolled her eyes in Rey’s direction.

“ _Men_ ,” the female pilot exclaimed.

“You guys are all simply jealous,” she continued. “The _Force_ is guiding me. It is what will bring us all safely through this.”

There were scattered laughs, some of the younger pilots snorting in disbelief. Only Snap Wexley remained silent, and one by one, the others went quiet and looked at Rey, now sitting among them, as the embodiment of an old legend they could hardly make themselves believe in anymore.

Jess was also watching her, eyes wide. “I can’t believe that you’ve trained with Luke Skywalker – _the_ Luke Skywalker. That you were the one who brought him back when everyone else failed… Have you talked to him since you returned?”

“Uh – no,” said Rey hesitantly. “I suppose he’s here somewhere, probably with his sister –”

The female pilot’s face positively shone with excitement. “I’d _die_ to meet him! They say he was one of the best pilots in the galaxy in his time! Hey, we all know how he took out the first Death Star – single starpilot –”

“He was a pilot, yes. But many people are, Jess,” said Poe kindly. “Luke Skywalker is a Jedi – the only one who could bring back those traditions after the fall of the Empire.”

“But the members of the Jedi Order are gone again, aren’t they?” said one of the others, a man with brown, curly hair whose name Rey didn’t remember. He was looking directly at her, his eyes curious. “Some people say you’re the only one left now, apart from Skywalker himself. The only one with the ability of using the Force.”

Her eyes shifted from one face to the other.

“We’re not alone,” she said. “But we’re the only ones left on our side of the war.”

How could she explain to them about the massacre that had devoured the others? About the dark side? They were complex things that would take far more time to tell about and understand – some of it she didn’t even quite understand herself.

She shifted on her chair, and light was briefly reflected in the metallic handle of her lightsaber. Jessika noticed, and stared at the object attached to Rey’s belt.

“Is that… A true lightsaber?” she said softly. Rey nodded with a faint smile. The young pilot’s eyes were wide.

“I’ve never seen one of those in real life,” said Joph.

Finn now looked at the weapon too, and must immediately have noticed its difference from the Skywalker saber they had both wielded in battle. He sent Rey a questioning look, but she simply said, “Later.”

A bottle of undecidable origin had stood on the table for a while. It was large and containing an amber liquid that she recognized as the famous Corellian brandy – not that she could remember ever drinking such a thing before. The bottle was nearly empty – the pilots had shared its content fairly between them. Suddenly Joph pulled up something – he must have kept it hidden somewhere Rey couldn’t figure out – and placed it on the table with a somewhat devilish grin on his face. The other pilots groaned.

“No way, Joph.”

“Man, you can keep that stuff to yourself.”

“If I’m drinking that, my stomach won’t go back to normal until next week,” Snap said in disgust.

It was a new bottle, this one dustier, as though it had been kept somewhere dim for a while. It contained some darker liquid – through the glass of the bottle, it mostly resembled coagulating blood. It looked far from appetizing.

“What is that?” asked Rey curiously.

“It’s Port in a Storm,” said Finn cautiously. “I’ve heard it’s one of the strongest intoxicants – barely drinkable.”

“It _isn’t_ drinkable,” said Snap. “I haven’t met any person who could easily drink Port in a Storm who wasn’t a native of Pamarthe.”

Joph grinned. The other pilots at the table groaned again. Rey got the distinct impression they’d been through this before.

The curly-haired one had taken the bottle, and took a tiny sip of its contents – the next moment he was doubling over, coughing hoarsely, eyes watering.

Rey watched with a mix of skepticism and concern.

Joph dragged the dark bottle back across the table. “Listen, I’ve got an _oath_ to keep. For a friend. I promised her several years ago that I’d drink a cup of this. It’s a matter of proving myself. You wouldn’t understand.”

Poe made a sound of disbelief. “And you haven’t managed that yet? As far as I’m concerned, it’s been _seven years_ , Joph.”

“So? A promise’s a promise.”

“You don’t have to take it so seriously,” another pilot muttered. “Kinda sure she doesn’t care about that promise anymore.”

Curiously, Rey reached out for the bottle. Poe watched her, wide-eyed and alarmed.

“Rey… I wouldn’t do that if I were you – ”

She casually raised the bottle to her lips, then took a small sip of the liquor.

It felt as though someone had poured fireworks down her throat. It burned and tickled and stung inside her mouth and throat like sparks working their way through her, burning hot and stinging cold at the same time.

Rey held one hand to her mouth, trying desperately not to cough it all up again. The pilots – and Finn – around the table were watching her with something like amazement.

The fireworks didn’t stop at her throat. It melted its way up to her head and down to her stomach, from where it spread out like tongues of fire.

_And all that with just one sip_ , she thought. Finally, the sparks seemed to fade. Rey dared to remove her hand from her mouth. She calmly turned her gaze to Poe.

“That can’t have been Port in a Storm,” he said. “What’s in there? Fruit juice?”

“It’s Port in a Storm,” the curly-haired one muttered darkly. “I can confirm that.”

The others still seemed rather impressed by her performance, and Rey’s mouth quirked into a grin. She then turned to Joph.

“If you’re planning on drinking a whole cup of this, I wish you all luck.” Jess laughed, but Joph simply reached for the bottle, resolution written on his face.

“Seastriker, don’t tell me you’re drinking _that_ again.”

Everyone at the table turned as Leia Organa approached them. Short and practically dressed, her hair delicately styled as per usual – not for the first time, Rey thought the other woman had an unmistakable kind of energy around her that you were inevitably affected by.

The general’s stance and expression were serious, but she had a glint in her eyes. A light of a sort that seemed to appear far too rarely.

Joph looked at Leia apologetically.

“It’s not really mine, General. I got the bottle from Greer.”

Leia smiled. “Oh, the dear girl. How’s she doing? It’s been too long since I was in contact with her.”

Rey searched her mind for knowledge of the person they were talking about – the name felt somehow familiar, but she couldn’t think of why.

“She’s fine, but easily exhausted,” said Joph. “She’s had to rest a lot lately after her assignments in the Outer Rim. Kalonia says it’s for the best, to calm the fevers.”

The general nodded understandingly. Then she did something rather unexpected: she grabbed an extra chair from another table and sat down with the pilots, squeezing herself in next to Poe.

Snap Wexley jokingly waved the dreaded bottle. “Want a taste, ma’am?”

Leia actually winced. “I’m not touching that. Port in a Storm is not meant for human consumption.”

“Greer drinks it,” Joph pointed out.

“Greer’s from Pamarthe,” said Leia. “And Pamarthens can withstand anything.”

She then turned to Rey, and a smile spread on her face.

“Rey – it’s good to see you awake. How are you feeling?”

Rey assured Leia of her well-being. The general frowned darkly. 

“Luke has told me of what you encountered on Tatooine. It’s lucky you managed to get away nearly unharmed.”

“They didn’t want us dead,” Rey said simply. She noticed how the pilots – and Finn – were discretely listening to every word. 

The general turned towards the other pilots at the table, and was now casually engaging in their light conversations. The fact that she was their general and older than most of them didn’t seem to prevent her from laughing and chatting with the pilots. 

Yet Rey couldn’t help but notice a slight occasional change in Leia’s expression. Every time the general thought no one was looking, a shadow slipped over her face and cast her eyes in sadness – but no sooner had it appeared before it was gone again, and her face lit up once again at some snappy remark.

A few of the pilots had initiated a game of Sabacc – a rather devilish game of cards that took an experienced player to master, and which could easily wipe people of all their fortune. Leia immediately moved her chair to the other part of the table and joined in. 

Rey’s attention – which had been with the Sabacc players as she tried to figure out the finer rules of the game – was forced back to Joph Seastriker who was no longer beside her, as he had bravely attempted to fulfill his oath and was now curled up somewhere beneath the table, coughing up his lungs judging by the sound.

The other pilots roared with laughter. She tried to hold back her own laugh and failed as her eyes met Finn’s. Her friend had a certain light in his eyes, brightest when he thought no one was watching, brightest when he looked at Poe.

And it somehow didn’t matter that this was a time of war and fear. That they had the lesser numbers, and were the ones in constant danger of discovery and annihilation.

Not for the first time that day, Rey felt a strange joy filling her – she thought they had both rarely felt more at home.

__________________________________

As Leia Organa strode through the many corridors of the Resistance base, it was with a renewed lightness in her steps, and really in her entire body.

When she had received the news earlier, she had felt delighted. Though still now she urged herself to remain composed – she wouldn’t allow herself to feel relief. Certainly not joy, for that matter. Such feelings had betrayed her before – when she nowadays strived not to let herself hope too much, it was simply to spare herself the eventual disappointment.

But she _was_ relieved; although she still had to find proof to support her sliver of hope. It wasn’t too often, she thought, that the news she received were any good. Anything to cast light in the darkness.

As she walked towards the hangars, the message delivered to her this morning kept rolling through her mind, as a holo-message put on repeat.

_General Organa – they’re coming! Our people have tracked the surviving senators. They report that their transport will be here in a few hours. They’ll keep you updated._

The surviving senators… the remaining servants of a fallen Republic – a senate that had been blown to the winds. It was some of the best news she’d received for a long time – perhaps ever since the notion of a certain approaching freighter returning from Ahch-To, carrying with it the twin brother that she had not seen for years.

Then of course, there was the news that the rescue of Rey from the First Order had been successful. And the news that Rey and Luke had finally returned from their second journey. Then, just earlier, the relief of seeing Rey awake.

Leia sighed softly. So much seemed to evolve around the young woman from Jakku. An overwhelming power. An overwhelming responsibility.

The message replayed in her head. Her pace automatically quickened.

She felt as though she’d always somehow known, felt it. The Hosnian system had been destroyed, yet surely some had to be left, some senators had to remain who would still dare stand up for a republic that no longer existed, who had had the fortune of being off-world in that crucial moment. It was this hope that had encouraged Leia to begin a search across the galaxy – a search which had now, finally, proved successful.

She hadn’t set her foot in the Senate herself for a good while before the destruction. Because of that, and for a number of other reasons, she wouldn’t be able to tell who’d been away. A stream of images of her closest political allies from Hosnian Prime passed through her mind – some of them she’d had the fortune of being able to call friend. Not many, but still some.

And yet, she thought, as she turned down a smaller corridor abandoned by people as well as droids, the slight chance was there. The chance of getting back a little part of what she’d lost. Maybe they still deserved this fortune after all.

_All the lost things_. She had gotten Luke back. After much trouble had she finally found her lost twin brother – if Leia had to be honest with herself, she didn’t how she’d have managed to continue, to endure, without him.

She would always continue – this was what everyone knew about her, what anyone probably could have told her. She would endure. She was strong enough.

Hadn’t she been through the worst things already? For a mother to lose her only son, to lose him the only way more painful and devastating than even death. To live with that knowledge of failure, of one’s own betrayal. But even then, she had not experienced the worst. Only now, after having felt _that_ pain, did she have an impression of what the very worst thing, for a mother, for a wife, felt like.

It was with Luke’s return that she’d felt some shred of her being slowly return to life. This was when she had finally given in to the tears. 

_Han._

She leaned against the white, undecorated wall, shutting her eyes tightly. The thoughts and memories were everywhere; the slightest whisper enough to provoke a stream of her most devastating emotions.

There was a faint rustle of sound – probably an astromech droid rolling across the floor somewhere close. To Leia, it sounded like a whisper.

_Han._

_“You know – no matter how much we’ve fought, I’ve always hated watching you leave.”_

_His smile. The same smile he’d given all those years ago after the Battle of Yavin. Which hadn’t changed on his face in the thirty-four years since then._

_“That’s why I did it. So you’d miss me.”_

_She had smiled back._

_“I did miss you.”_

_I did miss you._

_I do miss you._

Somewhere down the next corridor, the vague sound of a door sliding open, like a whisper.

_Ben._

She closed her eyes hard, but nothing helped.

_“Leia, I know that every time you… every time you look at me, you’re reminded of him.”_

_No – no, he didn’t understand. His eyes had shown a deep sadness that he rarely expressed. Had he not felt the hope? The slight chance that would always remain? Their son?_

_“You think I want to forget him? Han, I want him back.”_

But maybe forgetting would be more merciful, after all.

_Han. Ben._

_I did miss you. I do miss you. Always._

She covered her face with her hands – a poor attempt to seal herself from the world. Ironically, it would never be enough.

_Forgive me._

She removed her hands and opened her eyes as she heard footsteps coming down the corridor towards her. 

“General,” Admiral Statura said in his usual calm voice as he approached. “The senator transport is now approaching. You should be there when they land in the hangar.”

Leia forced a smile. “Thank you, Admiral. I was just heading for the hangars. We can walk together.”

Statura gave a quick nod. She straightened, and they both started walking.

The small, gleaming white transport was already in the hangar ground when they arrived. The two X-wings that she’d requested followed the transport on its journey arrived at the same time. Some technicians had already made their way to the transport, blocking some of Leia’s view. Though she could make out that the ramp was being lowered – and a small group was exiting.

She immediately began approaching the transport. The senators might like to see her at first, to feel that their importance was being well acknowledged. As a former fellow senator, she might be seen by them as an equal. Although, she thought bitterly, that might not necessarily be an advantage.

She sighed. It had now been several years since Ransolm Casterfo had revealed the dark secrets of her parentage in front of the Senate. The people she’d surrounded herself with since then had learned not to care. And truly, Leia herself had learned that you could spend time pondering many important things, rather than other people’s prejudice.

_I was right,_ she now thought. _You weren’t willing to listen then – and when you finally realized the truth, it was too late._

She quickly walked past C-3PO, briefly catching a bit of the droid’s loud and cheery talk.

“The senator transport has arrived! Wonderful!”

A pilot in orange flight suit was blocking her view, but as he turned, Leia caught a glimpse of a slender, long-limbed figure covered in silky golden fur…

“Leia!” shrieked a familiar voice. No, thought Leia, it couldn’t be. Or could it? Such luck had come to seem nearly unachievable. But truly, the figure that now appeared before her was real, and a sight that brought her an extreme feeling of relief.

_Thank the Force._ “ _Varish_! I can’t believe it!” 

Feeling lighter than before, Leia ran to meet the Loneran in a tight embrace. For this really was Varish Vicly, one of her former fellow senators, always her political supporter, and one of the few politicians that she’d been fortunate enough to call a friend.

And, most importantly, alive and apparently well.

Leia withdrew slightly and looked at the bright smiling face of the Loneran. “I can’t believe it,” she said again. “What happened? How have you – “

Varish, who had always been emotional, spoke in a voice high-pitched with excitement. “Oh, I suppose we’ve all got something different to tell!” she said, gesturing towards the other senators behind her. They were five in all – so few, and yet much more than they might have hoped for. “Well, I suppose I was only fortunate to be on a visit back home when it happened!” The tone in Varish’ voice turned uncharacteristically bitter. “Although we should all have been precautious… so many lives might have been saved. Oh, Leia – all the things we lost because not enough were willing to listen to you! And you were right about our opponent all the time – a truth which could have saved us, had we not been so stubbornly blind. And now…”

_And now the Senate is no more_ , Leia thought. Should she regret it – not urging the Senate even more, to make them answer to the looming power threatening to destroy them? Was there anything at all that she _could_ have done, apart from what she had… something that might have kept the crumbling remains of the New Republic from falling apart for just a while longer.

She didn’t know the answer to that question, and doubted it mattered now.

She briefly looked to the other senators, who Admiral Statura was now addressing. None of the others were people she’d known very well. But Varish…

Leia smiled, and her old friend continued to talk in a constant stream of words as they walked away from the hangar.

Varish Vicly had been one of her fellow senators in the Populist party – one of the two unofficial parties that the Republic Senate had gradually separated into. Though now the idea of mere parties seemed naïve. To think that their only concern would be opposing idealisms… When it truly hadn’t been simply a matter of two political groups, but an invisible war between two already major governments.

Leia sighed. Her party had believed in liberty and individuality among the worlds. Democracy, freedom for the people to speak out about their complaints. But perhaps those ideals had only worked in theory, she thought. In reality, too many people were hesitant to make any kind of decisions for themselves. Too many people _wanted_ an all-powerful government to tell them what to do.

And there were so many of those – people who had only ever lived during the Empire and could now hardly imagine a life without their brutal authority.

What disturbed Leia the most was that her party – and the entire New Republic – had slowly become exactly what their political opponents accused them of being. The Senate had become a naïve, bickering crowd, arguing to make decisions that were never the right, nor the most meaningful ones, caring more about their own petty complaints than about the people of the galaxy, whom they had sworn to serve. 

They had just turned down a narrow corridor, the four other senators walking along with Statura behind them. Varish talked on, now having reached the topic of nutritive food aboard starships, which had apparently been to her great dissatisfaction.

Much was demanded of her at nearly all times – and yet she knew that she wouldn’t have it any different. Leading a resistance against a far greater power would never become easy, but then, in a way, one could not deny that it felt freer. No more bickering and disagreement within a galactic senate – no more foolish formalities that were more about traditions than usefulness. This was actually _doing_ something – as what they were fighting was something very much real and tangible.

During her time in the Senate, she’d often thought back on her days in the Alliance – not being able to contain a feeling of nostalgia. Nostalgia? Actually missing the days of ceaseless war against the Empire? Maybe not the capture on the first Death Star, or the bone-chilling cold nights in Echo Base, or the brutal destruction of her home planet. But again, there was that feeling of doing something, by herself, something that she knew was for the good of the galaxy. That she knew would make a difference. Knowing that if she should be killed, it would almost certainly not have been a useless sacrifice.

Most times, she could still convince herself of that. That what they did must have meant something.

_For somehow, against all odds, I am still here_ , she thought. And shouldn’t that mean that there would always be hope, of some kind – something to carry on with?

“Leia? Leia dear, are you all right? You do seem a bit distracted,” inquired Varish.

“I’m sorry, Varish. My mind’s been drifting away all day.”

The other looked ahead, down the seemingly endless corridor. It was more dimly lit than most of the base, which mainly consisted of chambers so bright that, on the inside, it seemed ever midday.

“But where can we possibly be going?” the Loneran said. “This way does seem excessively long.”

“We’ll introduce you to some of our commanding members, who are all eager to meet you. Thereafter you will receive your own quarters, and whatever you need will be taken care of.” Leia smiled. “We rarely have the luxury of excessiveness in a base built for a rebellion, Varish.”

“Oh, I do prefer the term ‘Resistance’. Yes – a decent, noble Resistance made as a valid protest. A _rebellion_ can occur once the organization of mistrust has turned powerful enough to proclaim themselves the ultimate governing power.”

“But the First Order –”

“The First Order has not yet reached _that_ point,” said Varish firmly. “Even after the destruction of the Senate, they have yet to gather themselves, to announce their sovereignty as a government – as the new galactic empire they claim to be.” 

_But what difference will it make?_ Leia thought. That small yet was indeed to be accentuated. Even with the influence the Resistance might cause on the thoughts of the general population… it would presumably be a matter of still less time.

“Ah, is this it at last?” Varish said as the corridor finally ended with a black door right ahead. Confirming, Leia walked the rest of the way, and opened the door using a code that she typed on the screen next to it. Then she gestured for Varish, Statura and the four other senators to go inside, before she entered as the last.

The room she stepped into was brightly lit, in stark contrast to the corridor. As most rooms in the Resistance base, it contained not much furnishing, and no decorations at all. Every inch of the place told that this was a military organization, and thus everything had to be make-shift, made for purely practical purposes.

Placed centrally in the room was a round table raised to a height for people to stand around it, commonly used to project holograms. Around the table stood some of the leading members of the Resistance, who all looked up and greeted as the group entered. Leia saw Major Brance, Major Ematt and Admiral Ackbar – the old Mon Calamari smiled and blinked with his large, watery eyes when she joined them at the table. In their midst was, of course, C-3PO, no doubt ready to record every bit of the meeting for her to listen thoroughly through later in the evening. But that wouldn’t be necessary, she assured herself with a weary sigh. This was merely a simple presentation, and hopefully it would be over quickly.

“Thank you all for being here,” she began, eyeing everyone after turn. “It is my pleasure to be able to welcome five former members of our Galactic Senate. Although the Senate may be gone, it is indeed wonderful to see that not everybody in it has lost their ideals, and that these people – like the people of the Resistance – have shown themselves willing not to give up those ideals; our shared hope for the future of the galaxy. It is my hope – as I believe it is the hope of you all – that many more will soon learn from their example, and that our movement may continue to strengthen and grow.” She looked over the senators’ faces. “We welcome you, as fellow servants of democracy and believers of a free, prospering galaxy. We welcome you as leaders, who will remain loyal to the people of the galaxy.”

There was a cheerful applause after her small speech. Varish beamed and clapped enthusiastically along with the commanders of the Resistance, and Leia smiled genuinely. Such small shows of appreciation were something she’d rarely experienced in the Senate – and especially not during those last years.

“Majors, admirals,” she said, gesturing towards the Loneran as the first, “Allow me to present Varish Vicly of Lonera – a long-time ally and friend who has provided me with invaluable support. And – Admiral?” Leia quickly shifted the room’s attention to Statura, feeling slightly regretful that she hadn’t personally introduced herself to the remaining senators yet.

_Well, too late to change that now_ , she thought.

And so, Statura presented the rest of the senators in his calm voice, Leia watching them after turn as their names were presented.

There was Son Casqae, a charismatic male Koorivar with golden chains around his neck, as well as draped neatly around his twisting horn. Chinn Oshna of Kuat; a small, powerfully built woman with fierce eyes. Nindhae, a tall, solemn looking Twi’lek with skin the colour of Toniray wine; and finally, Posh Zinashen, an older Gatalentan with long, white hair and an almost unnaturally straight stance.

They were all people whose names Leia had heard mentioned, though she had never spoken to any of them in person. She didn’t recall ever hearing any of them speak on the Senate floor.

After that followed a considerable amount of shaking hands. Son Casqae gracefully moved across the room to Leia in a stream of billowing robes.

“Leia Organa,” he said, pronouncing her name in a strange, musical way. “We are indeed grateful for your hospitality.”

“This is not a question of hospitality, Senator Casqae,” said Leia with a polite smile. “We are grateful for your decision to join our forces.”

“Believe me, Princess – we’re all honoured to fight alongside you in this,” said Chinn Oshna in a strong voice.

Polite conversation continued for a while. As Admiral Ackbar was speaking with Nindhae, the Twi’lek senator, in the opposite end of the room, and C-3PO meanwhile moved somewhat frantically about trying to record everything, Leia figured it must be time to announce the meeting closed – although it could hardly be considered an official meeting. Also, everyone genuinely seemed to be having a pleasant time.

At that exact moment, a young officer burst into the room, a paper note clutched tightly in her hand. Everyone in the room fell silent as the woman handed the message to Leia with a grave expression on her face.

Leia looked down at the note with a frown. It was clearly a message that had come through via transmission, and quickly scribbled down in handwritten aurebesh letters to be delivered in person. She suddenly regretted switching off her comm-link before the meeting.

She quickly skimmed through the short message – and felt her heart drop.

Someone cleared their voice, briefly breaking the tense silence in the room.

“Leia – what does it say?” said Varish softly.

Ackbar watched her with concern. “Princess, if the news is bad, do not keep us in ignorance. Has something occurred?”

He didn’t say what everyone constantly dreaded.

_Have they found us?_

She spoke, then, in a voice far calmer than she felt. “This is indeed bad news, Admiral. They are of concern not only to the Resistance, but to the whole galaxy.”

She looked up at the many pairs of eyes watching her. “The First Order has taken control of Coruscant.”

Varish gasped loudly – she wasn’t the only person to react. Eyes went wide in shock. Leia could tell that everyone in attendance was thinking the same as she was.

Coruscant. One of the most central of the Core Worlds – a planet bustling with people and culture, as well as being an epicenter of politics; it was the world that had once hosted the Senate during the days of the Old Republic, the planet that used to serve as home to the Jedi Council. Also during the Empire’s reign had Coruscant had the status of capital world, as the home of the Imperial Senate and the Royal Palace.

It was one of the most influential planets in the entire galaxy, with a population counting billions and billions of people. And now it had fallen into Snoke’s possession.

Leia looked at Varish, whose eyes were still wide with disbelief.

“Well, Varish,” she said softly. “A rebellion rising against an ultimate governing power. You think we’re there yet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This chapter contains tons of references to 'Bloodline' (really, this book is amazing -- if you haven't already read it, I highly recommend it). Joph Seastriker, Greer Sonnel, Varish Vicly and Ransolm Casterfo are all major characters in Bloodline. The planet Pamarthe (we'll see lots more about this planet later) is also from that book, as is Port in a Storm.  
> For more information about the political parties (Populists and Centrists) of the New Republic and their ideologies, I recommend checking out their pages on Wookieepedia.  
> The four other senators are my original characters.


	29. Disparate Pieces

Rey was having strange dreams again.

She had suffered from nightmares before – really, so much that some part of her thought she must have learned to live with it. Let life go on during the hours she spent awake; even if the darkest hours of the night would always be waiting, to _wake_ and exploit those shadows hiding beneath the surface. Although of course, not all her dreams – nightmares – could be considered normal.

Quite far from it.

During the lonely nights in her home on Jakku, waking up while the world was still swathed in a veil of star dusted darkness, her breaths shallow and quick, her skin clammy as from a fever in the cold desert night – it had been almost ordinary. Every so often, she hadn’t been able to remember the details of the dreams. A deep, sorrowful sound, as though the _X’us’R’iia_ itself was in mourning… shapes and dim figures, slowly fading – a stain of darkness, of shadow, increasing, swallowing… and then, suddenly –

Nothing. Only the silence.

During her first time with the Resistance, she had also dreamt – dark, blurry scenes birthed from memories she’d tried her best to suppress. Many of them taking place on a dead planet far away – the snowy landscapes of Starkiller Base…

The dreams had faded when she was with Luke on Ahch-To, and too when she’d been away to Dagobah and Tatooine. When she trained hard and concentrated, with her body as well as her mind, the nightmares didn’t seem as able to easily reach her.

But now she had returned, and so had the dreams.

This was not how it was supposed to be, she thought.

And this time, it was different. There were no faded figures and strange sounds, no indistinguishable darkness. These were nightmarish visions so realistic that she remembered the details of them even hours upon waking. They were dreams so vivid that it usually took her some minutes – of quick, panicked breaths and a horrible ringing in her ears – before she realized she was awake. Safe – even if that was a relative thing.

There was one vision that always returned, and it was one that left her equally puzzled and terrified.

She was back in the narrow alley in Anchorhead. Dark faceless figures circling her, wielding blades the colour of bloodshed. The lightsaber she wielded heavy as stone. Her legs shaking, threatening to give way. 

The only thing that kept her standing still was that illuminating energy, glowing in her center – the Force.

One of the Knights moved towards her with inhuman speed, twin sabers poised to strike – but she bolted towards them, even faster, for a moment simply appearing as a blur of shadow and light, before they collided.

The golden beam of her lightsaber went straight through their body. It pierced fabric and armour, flesh and bone, all of it suddenly nonresistant as water.

Something so much alive.

Until she stole that life, and made it something else – something dead and cold; a body without soul.

She stared into the darkness of the mask that covered the Knight’s face completely, stared at the place where the eyes should have been.

Then, slowly, fractures started to spread across the mask. It always happened _slowly_ , and yet she never had time to move away, to even take another shallow breath. The mask cracked, shattered – and then fell apart to reveal –

A face with pale skin, framed by strands of black hair. A scar running from his brow, down across his face. His eyes expressing a strange, sorrowful calm. She saw storms and galaxies in the depths of that gaze.

His lips parted slightly, shaping the words he could not speak –

_I’m sorry._

Then his eyes went blank, unseeing, the vivid emotion replaced with that terrible emptiness – as the life of Kylo Ren, of Ben Solo faded away.

And everything else simply… _stopped_. The world went dark. Every sound silenced but the screams inside her head.

_No… no…_

Everything disappeared. _She_ disappeared. The Knights of Ren and the alley faded – and she was washed away into darkness; impenetrable, devouring. Infinite.

_No… no…_

She was running. She didn’t know _why_ she ran, only that if she stopped, so would everything else. The heart of the universe would stop beating. Everything would fall apart, disappear into oblivion. They would cease to be.

So she ran, and didn’t stop, and when she finally woke up in the middle of the night, she would be out of breath, her chest heaving as though there simply wasn’t enough air to fill her human lungs. Inside her head, she was still running. In her mind, it was all falling apart.

_Why?_ Those dreams were so real, so vivid. Even though she knew they weren’t telling the truth of what _had_ happened.

It was not him she had fought against. Not his face beneath that black mask.

She knew it, felt it down to her bones.

Was it a vision? A message? What did it _mean_ – what was the Force trying to tell her?

Frustration and despair burned in her.

The Force… it had helped her so often. Times when she had been aware of it, existing alongside her, with her – and times, earlier, when she hadn’t even been aware of her own connection with it. It had helped her; comforted her, guided her, always.

Why wouldn’t it help her now?

It was as though the dream wanted to _show_ her, to express a fear rooted deeply within her. Something she could barely admit to herself. This dread, running through her like venom in the night…

But it didn’t make any sense. She would know if he had died. When she’d killed the Knight in Anchorhead, no part of her had felt this kind of doubt. She had _known_ , already then.

_Help me_ , she wanted to whisper, and hope that something – someone – at least would listen.

She imagined him then, standing before her, his silent gaze fixed on her. He reached out, a simple gesture, offering his hand.

___________________________

Rey raised her head and looked around. She was sitting at a table by herself – back in the great hall, though now it was early in the day, and the hall was nearly empty of people. She assumed most of them had had their first meal already, and were now about to begin their work of the day.

She looked down at the cup in her hands, and sloshed the greyish remains of the caf around at the bottom. To her, it had an awfully bitter taste, but it was what nearly everyone drank at the dawn of day – and it did have the odd side-effect of providing her extra energy. That would have been convenient, she thought, had it been any other situation.

Rey sighed, her eyes following a green R5 unit strolling by. She felt a constant restlessness – during the first days, she’d tried determinedly to find work to do in the base. Any kind of work would do. As she was newly arrived and hadn’t had time to establish a real position within the Resistance, ‘any kind of work’ was something she had to go seek for herself. She’d immediately refused to listen to people like General Organa and Dr. Kalonia telling her that she was fully entitled to ‘relax and recover for some time’. Even Finn, to her great exasperation, had asked why she couldn’t just enjoy some free time now that she had it.

“Rey – you’re a Jedi,” he’d said. “One should think you’d sort of deserve some, eh, special treatment?”

“But I don’t want special treatment,” she had tried to explain to him. “I want to be of use.”

Apparently, they didn’t understand. Or perhaps they did, but she certainly didn’t feel it.

Free time wouldn’t do. _Passivity_ wouldn’t do. Distractions, of any kind, were much appreciated.

She didn’t know if it was a particularly _Jedi_ thing, nor if there was some special reason for how she felt – apart from the most obvious ones.

_What will happen now?_ a part of her mind kept thinking. _What is my role going to be? Where is my place?_

Stars how she wanted to talk to Luke.

She’d finally discovered his whereabouts and gotten the chance to speak with him the day before – or rather, he had found her (that was how it usually went). He had seemed unharmed and otherwise fine, although distracted, his mind and thoughts in some faraway place. For some reason, she hadn’t felt any particular need to tell him about her dreams then.

He had, however, talked to Leia, who had finally assigned her small tasks in the hangars.

Working in the hangars was fine for Rey – these tasks were like the ones she used to do for a living, tasks which her hands and mind automatically knew how to do, down to the finest detail.

She straightened as she heard the monotone voice of a general message emitting from speakers in the walls – then relaxed as she realized it wasn’t meant for her. It was simply a call for one of the X-wing squadrons to assemble in the nearest hangar; probably to receive orders for their next journey.

This made her think of Jess Pava. The day before, Rey had helped the female pilot doing some maintenance on her X-wing. To her delight, it had been a truly enjoyable time – it seemed that the pilot had gotten over her first immediate excitement of meeting someone associated with Luke Skywalker, and had after this been acting completely normal. As though they were simply two women who could talk about all sorts of light things. Normal things. Although, for Rey, there had never been a chance to learn what was considered truly normal.

A group of males walked by – she caught the briefest bit of their conversation.

“A whole fleet of SDs, new class – those things are _massive_ …”

“New Imps controlling the whole damn sector soon enough…”

“… doesn’t explain how in all kriffing hells they did it…”

They were obviously talking about the invasion of Coruscant, which, from what Rey had overheard, was the current main topic of discussion.

A few days ago, a message had been transmitted to General Organa with the words that the planet Coruscant had been taken by the First Order. It had come along with the news that five former Republic senators had joined the Resistance, which would have been interesting enough news on its own.

It could barely be called an invasion – a massive fleet of First Order ships had suddenly appeared in the skies above the planet, which was said to be mostly one vast, bustling city; a single enormous metropolis that had swallowed the entire world. Shortly after this, the governors of Coruscant had surrendered, and the First Order’s forces had been allowed to take control of everything, meeting almost no resistance from the population. The threat of the Star Destroyers from above had made any travels to and from the planet nearly impossible, and legions of stormtroopers were sure to maintain order on the ground. They had quickly gained control of and access to everything – intersystem comm channels and data, along with various communiqués transmitted from Coruscant’s rulers to the vast majority of the Core Worlds. Rey could only try to imagine what sort of things those messages might have contained.

Those news, along with newsfeed streaming in from all across the galaxy of the First Order’s deeds, seemed to stir up already boiling emotions. Shock and disbelief. A slowly creeping fear. Those were feelings she understood very well.

_Coruscant._ The Core Worlds… So many places and worlds that Rey had heard stories of – she’d imagined what they were like, of course; imagined the exhilarating feeling when she would finally, someday, travel there – maybe in the company of someone else –

She was woken from her thoughts when another general message sounded, echoing in the cavernous room.

_All available personnel will rendezvous in the central assembly chamber to receive new information. Members of the Resistance, please proceed to rendezvous in the central assembly chamber in five minutes to receive new information._

Automatically, Rey got up to move, after emptying the cup of its last, greyish remains. Leaving the cup on the table, she started walking toward the given destination, soon following a stream of people going in the same direction. Though the message had said for those currently available, it seemed that quite a lot of people had in fact stopped whatever work they were in the middle of doing, to personally receive this new information.

Along with many others, Rey soon emerged into the oval, brightly lit assembly chamber, with its elevated rows of benches along the walls, and a raised podium placed in the center.

She quickly made her way across the room and strode up the benches like stairs, having instantly spotted two familiar faces in the crowd. Finally, she joined Finn and Poe on the uppermost row, the two of them engaged in conversation.

The two men had spent the first evening of her return to consciousness telling about their grand adventures – which did sound rather grand; if all the details of the story were true, of course. In exchange, Rey had talked about her travels with Luke. About the strange, misty forests of Dagobah, and about the beings she’d encountered in Anchorhead. They were curious about most of what was connected to her training with the Force. But she had found it difficult to talk about those things, let alone explain it. The emotions, the visions, she had left out of her story entirely – she didn’t want to try to explain things she hardly understood herself. And anyway, how could she make such a thing seem real; something that seemed truly unreal to most?

Silence was beginning to fall throughout the windowless chamber. Rey looked down over the rows of benches before them, to the podium in the center.

Leia Organa had stepped up onto it, and everyone’s attention was immediately with the general as she started speaking.

“People of the Resistance – I speak to you directly, for I assume you’ll all know what’s been happening by now. We have accomplished much already. But our enemy, too, is growing in strength even as we grow in numbers. When we destroyed the weapon known as Starkiller Base, we bought time. Precious time during which the First Order has desperately tried to regain their control.

“You have heard of what has happened. Many worlds have fallen under the First Order’s control, among them Coruscant. And many more worlds will continue to surrender as the power of our opponent grows. I am speaking now also of the power of deception and conviction, their power to manipulate people’s thoughts – something we can fight against if we’re strong enough in our presence. And _we_ have grown, too. It is my pleasure to welcome still more new members every day; people who are willing to join our cause. Not just our former senators,” she said, inclining her head to the five senators standing somewhere with the Resistance command, “but other people, citizens from different worlds across the galaxy, who have gained interest in our cause and have been devoted enough to seek contact.”

Leia paused as a man spoke from somewhere in the room.

“We have done smaller operations for a good while. Since the assault on Starkiller Base, really. Reconnaissance journeys, recruitment missions and the like… Those things have all been successful so far. When’s the time that we move for a more direct attack strategy?”

Some people murmured their agreement. The general replied, “Yes – this is obviously the kind of question that we’re all trying to find the answer for. What we need now is to get to know our opponent – much more than we do at this point. We once thought we had an idea of the size of their forces – only then we were proved fatally wrong as they revealed the enormous power of the Starkiller to the galaxy. Guesswork is not enough in a conflict of this scale. We need to know, above all, exactly what we’re up against. The size of their fleet. Their number of troopers. Their key locations.”

She broke off, turning toward the Mon Calamari male standing next to the podium. “Admiral Ackbar – if you would explain the situation.”

Ackbar stepped up onto the podium next to Leia. His large, watery eyes were watching everyone in the chamber after turn.

“As Princess Leia just informed you, our priority and mission is to acquire a deeper knowledge of our enemy,” he said in his soft, dry voice. “And we have reason to believe that the First Order’s forces may be considerably larger than what we first assumed after the destruction of the Starkiller Base.

“Rumors have told us – trustworthy rumors – that the Order may have some sort of additional military power, a secret force, that has to this moment been kept hidden from the galaxy at large. These few people speak of it as a weapon, though for all we know, the word could describe almost anything – droids, a fleet, an army. The First Order is nothing if not resourceful.”

Whispers and murmurs went through the crowd like a breeze through dry leaves. Rey remained silent, but knew that she was wondering the same thing as everyone else.

A mysterious and secret force – something that was currently being kept secret to the galaxy at large… Something, she thought, remembering the brief conversation she’d overheard earlier, that might explain the ease with which the First Order had invaded Coruscant. They had met almost no resistance…

Like everyone else, she couldn’t help but wonder. Could it be a weapon in the most literal sense? A new destructive force – as the one that had been the Starkiller Base… It was too soon, she felt. It was something too impossible for even the First Order to accomplish in such short time – or was that simply wishful thinking? Would they dare do such a thing? Was there anything at all they wouldn’t dare?

The talk in the room was silenced once more as Admiral Ackbar spoke again.

“These rumors have been somewhat confirmed by Senator Zinashen –“

The white-haired Gatalentan merely inclined his head, remaining in his place at the opposite end of the room.

“– who has overheard words from people we know to be high ranking officers within the First Order. Words of huge sums of money and vast amounts of materiel being sent to one place – a system, a planet, some new base. The name of said location was not mentioned. Such talk could lead us to believing that some larger construction or operation is under way. The details are highly classified information, something not lightly shared even among their commanders.

“We have decided to send a small group to the planet Naator, which is the home of a First Order base – one of their so-called fortresses. This group will need to find a way to enter the fortress, make their way to the main control rooms, and hack themselves into their systems to retrieve the information we seek. It will be the kind of information that won’t be allowed to be simply kept out in the open for everyone to access. Although it will be at severe risks, we believe this is a mission of great importance, and therefore necessary.

“What we want is to know as much as possible of the First Order’s schemes – as much as we can possibly gain access to. We need inside information of whether a large operation is really taking place. We need to know the destinations of all that extra materiel, who is receiving it, and for what purpose.”

The silence following Admiral Ackbar’s message was palpable. Then, after a moment, Poe spoke.

“This mission will need a skilled pilot.”

General Organa caught the pilot’s gaze from the podium. “Poe, no one is saying –”

“And it’ll surely be a hazardous mission for whatever pilot is going to lead it,” he continued. Rey could have sworn there was a slight smirk on Leia’s face.

“You’ve nearly just returned from your last journey, Poe. No one would expect you to carry out a mission like this so shortly after.”

Rey saw how people were watching, their eyes shifting from Leia to Poe.

Ackbar said, “This mission will indeed require a competent pilot, who will carry the responsibility of safely bringing back the team and, with it, the information.”

“I volunteer,” said Poe suddenly. “I volunteer to lead the mission – but I’m gonna need more people.”

“I’m coming, too,” said Finn suddenly, and the pilot turned to his friend with a grin.

“Knew I could count on you, pal.”

Leia gave the two young men an appraising look, then nodded.

Seized by a sudden intuition, Rey rose to her feet.

“So am I.”

Whispers and murmurs erupted across the room. She instantly felt the weight of many pairs of eyes on her. Leia watched her silently, thoughtfully, but didn’t speak a word.

She wasn’t sure what it was – this feeling inside her that suddenly spoke to her, told her she _had_ to go. She didn’t know what waited ahead, but she sensed it was something much vaster and more significant than the actual mission. _Something vital, missing._ Something urgent. A revelation still hidden from her, waiting for her to uncover it. She already was. _The final piece. It is happening._

As some strange sort of understanding, Rey was aware that Luke had shown up at the entrance to the room at some point. She turned her head, watching her master unwaveringly. He, too, remained silent, and she supposed that was the greatest show of trust she would get. His face didn’t reveal whether he thought she was making a mistake or not, perhaps by putting herself in imminent danger. Maybe he, too, sensed the sudden urgency, the inevitability of it. She knew this was the right thing to do.

Something was happening.

“Very well,” said Admiral Ackbar. “The team will meet with General Organa for further information. The rest of Black Squadron will stay here after the meeting for a briefing on their next assignment.”

With those words, the Mon Calamari stepped down from the podium. Around them, people began to leave one by one, leaving the room mostly empty.

Rey followed Finn and Poe as they walked out of the assembly chamber and into the web of corridors, the three of them quickly blending into the crowd.


	30. In A World So Cold

The stars and the darkness were once again all there was.

Finn had travelled in space many times by now. Though if he’d thought he was ever going to start feeling accustomed to the lifeless cold, the peculiar feeling of loneliness, the unfathomable, dark infinity all around him waiting just beyond the viewports – he’d thought wrong.

Not that it was an all bad thing – the dark, the silence, the cold blinking of the stars. He didn’t think so, at least. Even if space was truly as endless as people said.

He felt the touch of a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned away from the narrow viewport that showed the starscape beyond, and faced Rey.

“We’re entering hyperspace,” she said. “The coordinates are set.” She sighed softly, eyes distant. “Now I suppose we can only wait and see where it’ll take us.”

His eyes met her dark, sparkling gaze. Some part of him sort of noticed they were nearly the same height. Her dark hair fell in loose waves down to her shoulders.

As they stood in silence, her words were followed by a shudder through the entire ship. In his peripheral vision, he saw the darkness outside replaced by the strange blue waves that was the realm of hyperspace.

He noticed that the skin of her face looked slightly paler than usual. Was it his imagination, or did the shadows beneath her cheekbones also seem deeper? He knew for sure that the dark circles beneath her eyes had not always been this conspicuous.

He pointed this out to her, gently forcing her out of the distant, trance-like state that had fallen over her.

Rey smiled, but it was a half smile. “Nightmares.”

He silently waited for her to elaborate, but no more words came. As if sensing his concern, she shook her head vaguely, stopping him before he could speak. _Maybe it’s for the best_ , he thought. She didn’t have to tell him everything, after all. And there were probably things it wasn’t his business to know.

Even if it was difficult sometimes.

Together they headed away from the tiny passage, and reached the lounge room placed in the heart of the ship.

It was a small, ordinary transport they’d been given by the Resistance for this mission specifically. Meant for them to blend in the best they could, if they should happen to encounter any sort of officials who would like to know more about their background. Even though he’d practically sensed Rey’s disappointment from not being able to fly the _Millennium Falcon_ as she’d gotten used to.

The _lounge_ consisted of benches, placed around one square meter of unoccupied floor, and it wasn’t nearly as cozy or comfortable as the name suggested. Though he supposed it was alright. Compared to First Order troop transports, at least.

The sparse room was already occupied by the third member of their group. Poe was lounging as casually on the bench as anyone else would have on an exclusively comfortable couch. Standing in the opening of another passage was the fourth member on their mission – and also the one that Finn regretted the most; C-3PO, the protocol droid.

“—and surely, the possibility of using another unit – although few droids in the service of the Resistance are as capable as I, as you must remember that I am fluent in over six million forms of communication, and those are but some of the skills which I would claim myself able to perform; which certainly makes me more qualified than these poorly new astromech units – Maker help them – though my translating abilities in particular have been quite invaluable in several situations, of which I can recall—”

“Humility circuits, 3PO?” said Poe nonchalantly. The golden droid looked rather taken aback for a moment.

“Humility circuits, sir? I daresay my humility circuits are in desirably perfect condition. And I shall be the last to complain about the work that has been assigned for me as it is my lot in life to serve, and I do not recall ever hearing complaints about my work – not from Princess Leia, whom I have now served for more than three decades. Indeed, it is the Princess’s every right to send me out on this sort of journey, although others might have thought to choose a droid of a lesser age. Surely her highness must have had her very specific reasons for choosing a protocol droid of my skill and experience; a point of view which I am most certainly able to follow—”

He had pretty much been going on like that since their departure.

The protocol droid had been assigned to assist them during their mission – if they succeeded, and managed to get as far as to make some useful discoveries among the First Order’s most secret data, they would need _someone_ to sort and keep that data. A droid – especially a protocol droid of C-3PO’s complexity – often came in handy like that. Although, in Finn’s opinion at least, there were certain backlashes with having 3PO on board.

“3PO has followed me into more dangerous situations than I can count,” General Organa had said. “Despite everything he says, I assume he’s rather thrilled to have his importance being acknowledged… though maybe this is not quite how he expected.”

It was probably true to some limit. Still, he had his deep doubts about their chosen companion.

Trying the best they could to shut out the babbling that came from the doorway, Finn and Rey went to sit down with the pilot. Poe casually crossed one leg over the other, as though he couldn’t be disturbed by anything at the moment. He met Finn’s gaze and grinned for no obvious reason.

Finn frowned, again. “What’re you smiling for?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Aren’t we about to go on a daring and most likely dangerous quest for the sake of freedom?”

Finn shook his head slightly. “You’re crazy.”

“I hear that, occasionally.” Poe raised a brow. “And what’re you frowning for, buddy?”

He realized he didn’t have an answer for that, not really. His bones creaked as he worked out a kink in his neck. He tried to tell himself to relax.

“Aren’t _you_ supposed to keep an eye on the course?” Rey said to Poe, rather dryly. “Do you always have such complete faith in a ship’s navi computers?”

The pilot’s eyebrow quirked again. “Not unless there’s an asteroid field out there that doesn’t appear on our scanners.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and smiled. “Of course, such celestial phenomenons have been happening to appear out of nowhere – once in a while. Who’s the pilot here, anyway, Jedi?”

“Apart from me, you are,” Rey retorted, unaffected.

“Exactly! I’m the pilot of this mission.”

“That small detail was never strictly clarified.”

“– and I have once been called the best pilot in the Resistance –”

Finn silently followed the discussion. This bickering was also nothing new.

Rey’s amused expression faded drastically. “Is that so.”

Poe straightened his body. “Anyway, if nothing else counts, I’m the oldest.”

“Hey—you can’t be that much older than me,” said Finn, slightly indignant.

“I assure you, I am,” Poe said plainly. “Well at least _considerably_ older than her.” He pointed at Rey, who rolled her eyes. Finn didn’t blame her.

Poe turned himself around. “Anyway – 3PO?”

“—from programming binary load lifters, and now to—yes, sir?”

“Go to the cockpit and… well, keep an eye on the course, will you?” said Poe.

The golden droid seemed almost startled at first—Finn realized he probably usually did—but then he turned around and walked stiffly down the passage. The pilot looked after 3PO for a moment, a slight frown on his face.

“You shouldn’t frown too much, elder one. It might cause wrinkles,” said Rey airily. Poe didn’t dignify with a response.

Finn rose to his feet and went to get himself a cup of caf from the ship’s supplies. When he returned he noticed Rey was still wearing the same, distant expression. Her eyes were glazed, as though looking at something imagined rather than of the real world. It was an expression that she had been wearing often in the previous days. And the worst part—Finn knew he was likely not to be of any help at all, no matter how badly he wished for it. For that, they had been apart too long.

“I’m not sure how much to trust this droid,” Poe said suddenly. “He’s well-programmed and all… And I know he’s been with the rebellion longer than either of us—"

“I know he sometimes seems… less than reliable,” said Finn hesitantly. “But 3PO’s got great respect for General Organa.”

“Yeah,” said Poe, “and isn’t that something to understand?”

He looked at them with an expression that was both keen and serious. “You know; Leia Organa has probably experienced much that would make anyone else lose it—or just give up. But no. She’s endured, every time. Even after fighting against the Empire, she became a senator in the New Republic. She chose to stay in politics rather than live a peaceful life with her family.”

Except, thought Finn, nothing about the Skywalker family could ever be called truly peaceful. In Rey’s eyes, he saw something dark and full of despair, a deep and sudden grief—just briefly, before her expression became distant once more.

Poe leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “What d’you think about those senators, anyway?”

“They seem quite enthusiastic,” said Finn. “Ready for the real fight—not what you’d think of politicians.”

“I wouldn’t let myself be fooled. If there’s anything most politicians have in common, it’s their ability to hide their true intentions.”

“Those few must truly support General Organa,” Finn said after a pause. “Otherwise I doubt they’d ever have come out of hiding.”

Rey watched them curiously. “Why is that?”

“Well, she wasn’t exactly popular in the end,” Poe said. “A couple of years ago, she was extremely popular within the Senate—she was one of those who got the majority of the votes, was suggested as First Senator… But then, all of a sudden, all of that disappeared. When rumors began to circulate that she was the daughter of—well, Vader himself, a lot of people lost faith in her. Believed that she must have inherited some darkness from her father, that she’d been a liar and deceiver all along… such gossip spread across the galaxy like a fever. Only few of her political supporters remained.”

“But Anakin Skywalker left the dark side,” Rey said softly. “He returned to the light, and died there too.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” said Poe grimly, “but that’s not exactly the part of his life that Darth Vader is most famous for, is it? People remember their nightmares most vividly.”

Rey fell silent after that.

Finn saw the image of Leia Organa in his mind; somehow, she had always seemed to _glow_ with a certain energy, a vivid and powerful presence. One couldn’t help but wish to believe in her cause. One would unavoidably become convinced that there must still be hope.

A moment passed in silence. Then Poe turned to face the two of them, his eyes suddenly bright.

“It won’t be long before we reach the station. I suggest we go through the entire plan—just once more.”

____________________________

When Rey had described her struggles to Finn as mere nightmares, it was carefully considered. An answer that was so general and common, one that didn’t invite for further inquiry.

She knew she could probably talk to Finn about anything, even this. Stars, she _knew_. Something was holding her back, and she couldn’t find words for it. She could try, at least, and even if he might not understand, he would help her the best he could. He would try to help, simply because he was _Finn_. Her friend.

But did she need help?

Finn wouldn’t be able to help her, she told herself. Support her, yes, but wasn’t this the kind of emotions, of mixed overwhelming confusion and dread, that felt almost too personal for anyone else to understand?

_Don’t be afraid; I feel it, too…_

She’d thought that in this matter, she might be utterly alone. And it suited her well enough. Her own mind, and the things within, was something she had to figure out on her own. It was something she _ought_ to be able to. A task that seemed really so simple, but which had never before been stranger to her.

And would Finn really understand the returning nightmares—the visions? What if he would feel less understanding, unable to sympathize—these were the scenarios she feared. Her friend, confused or even revolted, by the things in her head; distanced and uncomprehending.

Those were eventualities that Rey did not want to consider. And so, she had decided to keep the dreams to herself.

As she thought about it, she found that those reactions might be those most understandable. Maybe _she_ ought to feel that way—yet those feelings were completely different from how she actually felt about it. Almost the very opposite.

And yet, she wasn’t sure what she thought or felt at all.

It was the same dream, always returning. She was in the narrow alleyway in the outskirts of a town in a desert far away. The sun was baking down from above, but the shadows in the crooks were deep. Luke was beside her; the Knights looming before them. She fought until she thought she would collapse from the exhaustion, adrenaline gushing through her… one of them shot forward, lightsabers ready to strike… but she drove her lightsaber through his chest instead… and the mask cracked, and fell apart to reveal…

It was always the same.

But it wasn’t the only dream that haunted her. She relived the old vision she had experienced on Takodana, with the Knights of Ren standing in darkest night, surrounded by fallen bodies. She saw Han Solo falling from the bridge and into the abyss. She saw Han’s son, who remained standing, the knowledge of his terrible deed blazing in his eyes. _It ought to have made him stronger, but instead he felt as empty and powerless as ever…_

And then she was pulled back into dark nothingness… There were shadows and mists coiling around her, suffocating her, and all she could do was move, run—and she ran, for if she stopped, everything would fall apart; if she surrendered and let go, nothing would remain.

Rey strived to focus yet again on the present. She was in a transport in mid-hyperspace. She was on a mission for the Resistance. They were soon to be reaching the first stop on their journey.

And so, the three of them—counting Finn, Poe and herself—sat together and repeated the plan to each other, step by step:

They were to take the rather anonymous transport to a small space station named Uerrann-II, which floated somewhere in an abandoned, lifeless part of the Mid Rim. The station was no center of illegal trade and shady corporations, as one might have presumed by its desolate location, but simply an ordinary journey break. It was the sort of place you might get transportation, or hire pilots in search of occupation.

By chance of fortune, a connection of the Resistance had grasped news that a rather grand and important reception would be held at the First Order’s settlements on the Mid Rim planet Naator. Important, because it was for the highest commanding members of the Order only (as well as some of their wealthiest supporters, as Rey had understood it).

And then came the reason why the staff of the station were in possession of this information: A small entourage of such people, of specially invited guests, was apparently to stop at Uerrann-II on their way to Naator – to change vessel and receive extra protection in form of personal guards provided by the First Order—before they proceeded to the place of the reception.

Which all happened to be extremely convenient.

“So—we get there, we show on the right place at the right time, we go in their stead,” said Finn. “But—what’s going to happen with the original invitees?”

“Snap’s team is taking care of that,” said Poe. “They’ll make sure to lead our folks on a trip far away from there. He’ll feed them a proper story; say the whole thing’s been cancelled—I dunno. Give them coordinates that will take them to some burned out system in the Western Reaches.”

“Whatever they do, it’d better keep those people away,” Finn said softly.

“Snap’s a good guy. We can trust him.”

“So, we arrive at Uerrann-II…” said Rey. “And we disguise ourselves to look like we’re people invited to the reception on Naator. And so, assuming our friends succeed and keep the other ones away, we’ll be free to go and claim the transport reserved for them.”

“Won’t there be a risk of those guards asking us question we can’t answer?” said Finn. “To make sure they’re sending the right people into the fortress?”

“A risk, but it should be a small one,” said Poe. He frowned slightly.

“We know little things, if that should happen. But besides, no one from outside ought to know about this, anyway,” Rey said. “I mean, I don’t suppose they’d count on the hazard of staff members talking a bit too loudly in the corridors.”

“And nor would they predict what the Resistance is able to get out of that little bit of information,” Poe remarked.

“Let’s just not waste our chance now,” Finn said darkly.

Silence fell between them. Poe seemed to be filled with a sort of restless energy. Rey wondered how much longer it would take them to reach the station.

“I’m going to the cockpit. Don’t trust our golden professor to handle it forever,” the pilot said finally, rising to his feet.

“I’m coming with you,” said Rey. Finn followed suit as they moved through the passage that connected the ship’s compartments.

The cockpit was smaller than that of the _Millennium Falcon_ , which made it rather cramped – at least when it had to fit three grown people and a human-size droid inside it.

“Sir, if we continue to the exact coordinates of our destination through hyperspace, we will reach the station within the modest time of fourty-two seconds,” said C-3PO, as Poe leaned in to look at the different displays.

“However,” said the droid, “if I may suggest another strategy, it might be convenient for us to leave hyperspace slightly earlier, as to approach in a more incognito manner.”

“I agree,” said Poe. “By travelling the last bit at sub-light, we’ll attract as little attention as possible.

“Hold on now,” he told them. He tapped a few of the displays and switches, causing an immediate change in the ship’s movements.

Rey, gaze fixed on the viewport, watched as the vibrant blue colours of hyperspace changed – the view all around them became darker, and for a moment it looked as though the stars were stretched out into long, thin lines of light, staining her vision—

Then it all fell back to normal—the open, empty space around them cold and dark; the stars small, shimmering dots of light sprayed upon a dark canvas.

It was truly empty out here, not a single planet or moon in close view.

“Really,” said Poe suddenly, as a second thought. “We’re sort of an inconvenient team, aren’t we? I mean, it’s not like the three of us have entirely spotless records within the First Order,” he said dryly. “As soon as we’re on Naator, anyone we meet will be an enemy. If any of our identities are revealed… Finn would probably be imprisoned and killed for high treason and well, I’m not entirely unfamiliar for them either. And the stars only know what they’ll do if they catch Rey.”

Rey turned around sharply and met his gaze. “And therefore, the likelihood of us trespassing into their fortress will seem infinitely small. It’ll seem reckless, if not directly thick-headed, even to them. Even the Resistance would not be so foolish as to send wanted people like Finn and myself into the very core of First Order command, wouldn’t they? Think of it—the _risk_ of it is to our advantage. The Order will expect me to be hiding somewhere in the Unknown Regions with my master, somewhere far away from any agents or bounty hunters… Certainly not attending their own formal reception.”

“I see what you mean…” said Finn, not sounding entirely convinced.

“And besides,” said Rey cheerfully, determined not to let darker thoughts of doubt take root inside her mind, “the people we’re disguising ourselves as are from Mandalore. And wearing heavy armour and masks is what people generally associate with Mandalorians. At least these Mandalorians. From what we know of our doppelgangers, they’re very traditional. People won’t find it suspicious even if we show up fully disguised behind masks. With these people, it’ll probably be expected.”

“What I’m simply wondering is what business the Mandalorians have with the First Order,” Poe muttered darkly. “Especially traditionalists like these people…”

Their conversation was paused as what looked like a twisting, misshapen metal island appeared in the space before them, visible beyond the viewport. Poe slowed down their vessel as they approached Uerrann-II.

Rey stared at the space station, which _was_ a rather odd phenomenon. At a closer look, it looked like several long, box-shaped hangars filled with ships of all models and sizes, placed side by side around the vast compartment—or gate area—connecting the whole thing.

They entered the artificial atmosphere around the station, and Poe carefully steered into one of the cavernous hangars to find a free spot to land.

Finn looked at them both with an eager glint in his eyes, and said, “Let’s begin this, shall we?”


	31. Old Friends Long Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She was lost, hurtling through space, the strange stars of distant skies spinning around her, no familiar light to carry her home._

A worker from the hangar stood in a bright silver uniform and assisted by guiding their ship to a free spot; so that they narrowly fit in between an old U-wing and a small freighter, which gave the strong impression of having been patched quite randomly together from pieces of debris.

It seemed like they were lucky to even get some unoccupied room. The entire hangar was crowded with ships, technicians and other staff, as well as the travelers disembarking from their vessels.

The three of them, however, lingered inside the ship in order to prepare for the first step of their plan—disguising themselves as the people they were impersonating before they proceeded.

The Mandalorian gear they had to put on was extreme in a way that seemed excessive for the occasion.

“This is going to feel stuffy with time,” said Finn, as he lowered the heavy helmet over his head. It was made from the same hard material as the plates of armour on his body—as this armour had been provided by the Resistance, it was made of simple durasteel rather than the traditional Mandalorian beskar metal, which was said to be able to withstand nearly everything.

“Just be glad it hides your face,” said Poe, as he put on a pair of heavy gloves.

In the meantime, Rey examined her own set of clothes. They were very similar to the males’—made from raw materials, with plates of armour on her chest, arms and shoulders. Yet there were things about her uniform that were distinctly feminine—the armour protecting her upper body was smoother and rounder in shape, as to fit her curves; and oddly, her gown ended in a long, split skirt which whispered lightly over the ground when she walked. They fit her rather well, and she was astonished by the sight. These were clothes made for a warrior. No—a conqueror.

Rey couldn’t help but gain some confidence by it all—the knowledge that the plan they’d constructed was thought through as much as it was possible under the given circumstances. Although she knew such feelings were dangerous, she was beginning to feel invincible.

“So—how much do we actually know about our Mandalorian doppelgangers?” she asked.

“You’re Mistress Ïrranya,” said Finn. “And we’ll be your—followers. Servants, warriors, body-guards… whatever fits into the story.”

She lowered the helmet—the mask—over her head with gloved hands, and her vision was immediately reduced to what she could see through its narrow visor.

She looked up at the others. C-3PO was the only one who looked precisely like his usual self; Finn and Poe were fully hidden behind their disguise as Mandalorian warriors.

She finally touched her waist to feel the comforting shape of the lightsaber handle, covered beneath layers of fabric, yet always there. Always kept ready, to ignite and blaze at her touch, ready to defend and protect her.

“Shall we go?” she asked the others, her voice slightly distorted by the helmet.

The figure who was Poe nodded. Then he walked ahead of the others as they proceeded to carry out their mission.

They had barely reached the end of the ramp when a hangar worker – the silver-clad one who had waved them in—rushed in to question them.

He stood straight as a board before them, holding up a data-pad up in front of his face. “Your name and destination?” he said to Rey. She felt a nervous twinge in her center—but then she raised herself to her full height, and replied coolly, “Mistress Ïrranya from Mandalore, transferring to a shuttle to Naator. With an escort.”

The anonymously looking staff-member watched her over his data-pad. “Well yes, of course, ma’am. Your shuttle will be in Hangar Seven—all prepared and ready for departure.”

“Very well,” she said, in that same cold voice that was very unlike her usual.

The man turned abruptly, and they headed for the opening at the opposite end of the hangar, which appeared to be the entrance to the vast arrival hall.

Rey, naturally, couldn’t stop herself from staring at everyone they walked past. The hall itself wasn’t as impressive; simply a dark and windowless place with a polished floor. What was remarkable about it was the dense crowd of people of all species, from all across the galaxy, who occupied the room. There was a constant stream of people coming and going through the exits to the hangars. Some groups walked alone, and some were led by other staff members in silver.

Finn and Poe walking on her either side, playing the roles as her personal guards. They were truly an impressive sight, with their heavy armour and faceless helmets; iron-clad boots clanging against the floor with every step. Some turned to look at the three of them as they walked by. Unnerved by the attention they apparently drew to themselves, Rey strived to keep her gaze straight ahead—not that the mask allowed her to do much else.

_I am not Rey, the Jedi now_ , she thought for herself. _Now I am Ïrranya, the Mandalorian—and Rey will have to wait behind._

Their guide led them straight across the hall to one of the hangar exits, this one with a tall number, 7, written above.

Hangar Seven certainly seemed to have a different air to it. Less crowded by travelers as well as ships, and quiet so she could hear their steps echoing. The starry darkness of space was magnificently viewed through the hangar exit; in a way that made Rey feel as though any moment they might be sucked out into that cold infinity.

The vessels in this hangar seemed larger, newer and in a far better condition than those in the hangar they’d left. There were gleaming dark shuttles and official looking cruisers, even a pair of First Order TIE-fighters next to the shuttle they were approaching.

The ramp of the black shuttle was lowered, and at its foot stood no less than three officers in black uniforms, the First Order insignia shining on their chests.

As they reached the ship, one of the officers stepped forward. Again, Rey felt a cold knot of anxiety in her stomach, but forced herself to remain calm. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a short black beard trimmed with almost unnatural precision. Looking at his insignia, Rey saw that he was a commander.

“Mistress Ïrranya,” he said silkily, dismissing the silver staff member with a simple gesture. “I take it you and your companions had a successful journey?”

“It was indeed. Thank you,” said Rey in her strange, cool voice, wondering what exactly might have been successful.

The officer gave a small, respectful bow. “I am Commander Koll, at your service. I have been trusted to ensure your safe journey to Naator.”

Koll’s gaze moved from her to slide past Poe and Finn, who stood stoic and silent as statues. It finally settled on 3PO, who looked every bit as misplaced as he usually did.

The commander frowned slightly. “I was not notified that you would be bringing your own protocol droid.”

“He is a personal droid of mine, Commander,” said Rey quickly. Was 3PO someone people might recognize inconveniently? “A keeper of the data I prefer to have close at hand.”

The commander nodded again, apparently accepting the explanation. Before anyone could say more, C-3PO dashed forward, golden hand outstretched, and started, expectedly, “Good day, sir! Why, I am C-3PO, human-cyborg—”

And so, Rey found a most convenient use of the long skirt anyway, as she took the opportunity of kicking the droid’s leg unnoticed except for a rather loud, hopefully untraceable _clang_. Though it was probably a very human gesture, 3PO seemed to catch the meaning well enough—he shut up.

Commander Koll stood uncertain for a moment before gesturing for them to board the ship. As the ramp closed behind them, Rey had an uncomfortable feeling, like being escorted into a prison. She felt her breathing become quick and shallow. They might as well have been thrown in a locked cell, away from any hope of saving themselves. They would have about the same chances of escaping if it went wrong.

The officers left them in the shuttle’s center compartment. Rey almost immediately felt the light tug in her center as they took off and soared out into open space.

The interior of this shuttle looked considerably more sleek and luxurious than their previous ship. The lounge compartment consisted of dark couches and soft chairs, with shining black panels of equipment along the walls.

“So,” whispered Finn as they all sat down. “This has turned out all right so far.” His low voice was vaguely distorted by the helmet, turned into something that sounded slightly more droid than human.

It also sounded a bit shaky, which was a fair impression of how they undoubtedly all felt at the moment.

“Wonder who we are, though,” it came from Poe. It would have been a strange statement in any other situation, but now Rey privately agreed.

Who were these people from Mandalore, who were important enough to require a special shuttle filled with First Order officers for this short journey? What had been the original purpose of their visit?

Finn was right—everything had happened smoothly to this point; after all, much more easily than they might have expected. And yet, she couldn’t shake a feeling that something was, already now, _happening_ right in front of their eyes—something vast that might only be revealed to them at a time when it was too late to prevent it…

There were two things Rey hoped for in this moment; that whatever mysterious plot might be under way wouldn’t drag them in too far… and that they could continue to play their roles as allies, long enough for them to stay alive.

__________________________

The commander briefly came to notify them when they were about to enter Naator’s atmosphere.

As soon as he had gone, Rey leapt to her feet—grimacing at the heaviness of her clothes, which didn’t match the lightness with which she usually moved. She moved to the narrow viewport, gazing out as far as she could.

They were soaring through a deep valley, flanked by dark, mist veiled mountains of a truly incredible size. Rey gaped silently behind the mask, awestruck by wild, harsh nature of a sort she had never experienced before. The ice-clad tips were pointy and sharp, appearing to tear rifts in the pale sky. As the shuttle and the TIE-fighters flew between the massive walls of stone, through the winding valley that seemed to stretch infinitely, they were embraced by the shadows cast by the looming giants.

“Rather terrifying, isn’t it?” said Finn’s voice next to her—he had moved up to stand and watch alongside her. She nodded silently. Yes, there was something terrifying, awe-inspiring, about the mountains. Yet she couldn’t help but feel drawn to them, fascinated by their strangeness. This had to be unlike anything she had ever seen. The things that were strange, dark and unfathomable were often those with the greatest alluring power.

They appeared to be heading towards one of the mountains, though this mountain was shaped in an odd way. Only as they came closer and began the landing process, Rey discovered that the Order must have somehow found a way to build their base within the mountain itself. The only sign on the outside was the mountainside, which was smooth and tall; a massive wall of rock. A long, straight landing platform reached out from its side, leading them straight to a magnificent gate carved in the wall.

That moment was when she heard it.

A voice.

_You’re so close…_

A whisper in the deep quiet, cutting through the darkness.

_Yet so far away._

_I sense it._

Not a voice from the world outside of her; but from somewhere within. Or something outside herself, but which only she could hear.

Then…

_… I miss you._

_Stop_ , she answered instinctively, helplessly. She didn’t know what else to do, or say. _Don’t._

She didn’t know if she was _answering_ , someone or something, or simply flinging out thoughts to an endless void.

Rey could feel her heart beat frantically; she could hear her pulse, the blood rushing through her veins, propelled by some new, strange energy.

There was a moment of silence. Then, the whisper of that same voice.

_Your absence is a relief…_

_Every moment without you is agony._

Confusion and doubt bloomed in her like blossoms at night. She was lost, hurtling through space, the strange stars of distant skies spinning around her, no familiar light to carry her home.

With the voice, she now sensed emotions, too—whispers of anger, anguish and despair, pain and longing.

The softest touch of another mind, another presence, before it faded into the shadows once more…

_I miss you._

She tried to calm herself, to shove those thoughts away, to clear her blurring sight… Even though her heart was aflame—every nerve in her body electric.

She forced herself back to the present moment. They had landed on the outmost part of the landing platform, the two TIE-fighters immediately soaring up and away again. The officers followed Rey, Poe, Finn and C-3PO out as they disembarked, and continued to escort them down the platform and towards the opening in the mountain. The shadows were so dark that it seemed a constant twilight, blocking out the light from the pale sun.

“Now, the dangers are only fully to come!” the droid exclaimed.

“Right you are, 3PO,” said Poe.

Then they followed the First Order commander through the gate, and into the depths of the mountain.

________________________

 

The surface of Tatooine was bruised with golden and red; dry and gloomy and desolate as it has always been, as though completely untouched by time.

Luke Skywalker leaned back and sighed, as he steered the starfighter down toward the surface of the planet that had once been his home. His only home—before the galaxy had grown in his imagination, his vision wider, reaching far out into the dark infinity; hopelessly skittering at the edge of all the things still hiding in the shadows. Still far from truly understanding. Still far from learning.

For one who wasn’t accustomed to travelling on this world, the harsh landscape of endless desert and mountain ridges might have seemed all the same. Luke, however, to whom that landscape was familiar, was headed directly down towards a ridge of soft dunes which rose from a vast area of stony desert. His X-wing soared over the yellow dunes, and into view came a cluster of dust-coloured buildings.

As he prepared to land the fighter outside the town, binary signals became visible on his display.

“Be calm, R2,” Luke said. “I know what I’m doing.”

More frantic signals appeared, and he smiled.

“I promise I won’t get into trouble… Yes, R2, I missed you too.”

_Haven’t I learned to stay away from that sort of trouble?_ he thought. _After all this time? Shouldn’t we all have?_

He didn’t feel too sure about it. Some things never really changed, it seemed.

He climbed out of the cockpit and onto the dusty ground. It was mid-afternoon; the suns flared less brightly over the town buildings, painting the landscape softly orange.

R2-D2’s dome popped up from the astromech compartment of the X-wing, beeping questioningly.

“Stay here and look after the ship,” said Luke as he pulled a hood over his head. “Let’s hope there won’t be any complications.” _And that I haven’t travelled all this way for nothing at all._

Leaving the droid and the ship behind, he made his way into the town.

It wasn’t as much sense or reason that had made him return to Anchorhead on his own—it was more of an intuition, an unshakable feeling, and during his lifetime Luke had discovered that even the faintest intuitions usually came for a reason. A slight sense might be something worth following… And he had learned, eventually, that resisting to do so could be fatal.

When he had heard the name Kenobi spoken in Anchorhead, it had awoken a flood of memories, thoughts, speculations. It would have been easy to miss. Spoken so briefly, so casually, meant for someone else, as though it didn’t carry the meaning of a galaxy.

For him to hear that name, in this place of all, in this moment of all… Coincidences like that didn’t happen. For that, the Force was too vast, too all-encompassing.

The high street that went through the town was considerably less crowded than the last time he’d been here. The beings who had errands to attend in Anchorhead walked fast, heads turned down, gazes shying away. The merchant stalls along the dust-coloured buildings were shabbier looking than ever, and few people stopped to look at the goods they offered.

The torn posters were still there; the crude images of Rey and himself glaring from several walls, but Luke kept his head down as everyone else, avoiding eye contact, confident that the heavy hood would make him sufficiently unrecognizable—or that most people here simply wouldn’t care to take a closer look.

Turning down a narrower street, he found himself once again at the doorstep of Bronn’s cantina, the infamous rallying point for local customers and weary travelers as well as illegal traders and spice cartel leaders.

Luke kept his hood up as he made his way through the loud and boisterous crowd inside the main room of the establishment—all bathed in the usual dim light, the air filled with various exotically scented steams and enchanting live music. A Rodian with large, staring eyes seemed to appear out of nowhere to offer him high quality death sticks. Luke waved the Rodian off and proceeded to the long counter.

He felt slightly relieved to see the owner of the place standing behind the counter already. He looked up. Bronn’s eyes met his almost immediately, and the man’s face hardened.

Bronn gestured for him to move closer, and Luke leaned in so that he could catch the other man’s words.

“You’re mad to show yourself in this place, Jedi,” whispered Bronn. 

“I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t a matter of great urgency,” said Luke calmly.

The other man raised his brow, but didn’t inquire further.

“Be it then. What’s your business this time?”

“I’m simply here to ask for a person called Kenobi,” said Luke, choosing his words with care. “I’ve heard rumors that a person of that name lives in the area.”

Bronn frowned, the dark expression on his face shifting to disbelief. “Kenobi? You mean like old Hetta Kenobi?”

Luke nodded slowly. “The very same.”

“Well, Hetta lives right here in Anchorhead, two doors to the left,” said Bronn, waving his hand in said direction. “Though I can’t imagine why you’d want to visit her—odd, that woman…"

But Luke was already starting to leave, filled with a new kind of hope. He thanked Bronn and made his way back through the crowd—taking care to avoid more death stick-selling Rodians—and back outside in the street.

There he paused for a moment, looking down the row of buildings; then walked left down the street, two doors, before coming to a halt.

The building in front of which he now stood was built from the same dusty stone as every other in the town, although this was in a sorrier state. The walls were flaky, the door slightly crooked, but there was a soft glow emitting from the single window.

A dim silhouette appeared in the window, and a moment later, the door was opened from the inside.

The face of a middle-aged woman peered out. Though she couldn’t be older than Luke, she had a somehow weary look about her. Her dark hair was matte and heavily streaked with grey, and there were deep shadows in the creases of her face. Yet, her eyes had a fierceness in them. They were dark like her hair and glowed brilliantly, and Luke had a sudden feeling of seeing that look before.

“Why are you here? What do you want?” she demanded. Luke watched the woman closely with calm curiosity.

“I assume you are Hetta Kenobi?” he said. She watched him warily, carefully—then offered a small nod.

“I am Luke Skywalker,” he said. “Jedi Master and friend of the Resistance.” His eyes didn’t leave hers.

The woman’s expression was inscrutable—he thought she didn’t look particularly surprised.

“Yes, of course you are,” she said at last with a sigh. Then she opened the door a little wider, gesturing him inside. “You’d better come in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those leaving kudos and comments! It means the world to me. :)
> 
> And special thanks to LadyLionhart for being an incredible and wonderful person who inspires me infinitely. <3


	32. Mistress Ïrranya of Mandalore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stay out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the details about Mandalore and Mandalorians are made up by me, to be used for the benefit of this story and its plot.

If the entrance hall of the fortress within the mountain was grand, then the great hall, which connected to it, was magnificent.

Standing in the crowded entrance through which people streamed in and out, Rey felt utterly dwarfed. The cavernous room was dimly lit by single lights along the walls of bare rock, which appeared to have kept their natural rough appearance. The ceilings, dizzyingly high above, were swathed in shadow, making it impossible to see what was hidden in the crooks. This was the core of the fortress. Rey had noticed several corridors and passages leading out; she imagined them winding and coiling through the mountain like a web, with dark chambers and corridors, hiding First Order inventions too gruesome to see the light of the day…

Naator was no world of significant meaning—and this base, this fortress, was far from the most crucial one. For all they knew, the First Order might be constructing thousands of fortresses like this at this very moment, spread out across the galaxy, on the countless worlds already under their control.

But it didn’t matter much what sort of significance this place held for the First Order. For some reason, this was the place chosen for the formal reception. And it was during this reception, disguised as guests and with the cover of all the foreign visitors, that they would find their perfect moment. To find a way deeper into the base, and retrieve the information they sought.

Her gaze wandered across the hall, which was filled with enough people for it not to seem as enormous and cold as it had at first glance. What struck her first was the large number of First Order officers; a sea of shining black uniforms, the gleaming insignias on their chests catching her eye. Then there were the representatives, guests from worlds across the galaxy. People not only from the wealthier worlds around the Core, but from the outer territories, too. Their number and diversity told much about the influence and authority of the Order, growing and reaching farther out still.

Rey also noticed how the expressions of the guests were as varying as their appearances. Some of those who came from worlds supporting the First Order’s politics were exchanging streams of words with the high-ranking officers. Yet others stood silently along the walls without attempting to socialize. Their faces were perfectly composed masks of indifference, but their eyes were oddly empty; when they thought no one was looking their way, their expressions darkened, their eyes glazed with discomfort and worry.

Rey felt a push in her back, and discovered that she was blocking the entrance for several people. She muttered an apology and proceeded inside.

She accepted a cup of some fuchsia drink from a serving droid and looked around for the others. It would be best and safest if the four of them all stayed together as long as they were here—she needed to keep close to Poe and Finn; something which would have been easy enough if only she knew where they’d gone.

They were not to be seen at the doorway behind her; nor anywhere within close range. Rey swore quietly. If something happened to one of them while they were apart… This was not at all the ideal place to attract unnecessary attention. She stood tensely, fearing any moment that she might hear sudden exclamations of “ _Deceivers! Seize them!_ ”

As she felt vague panic beginning to rise in her, something odd happened.

Something strangely soothing, yet powerful. A presence; like a soft breeze caressing her face… like a beam of moonlight, lightly touching her skin, bringing with it images and memories…

Rey shook her head. A shiver ran through her.

_Your absence is a relief… Every moment without you is agony._

When the voice spoke inside her head this time, it sounded different. Not the same voice, but something vaster, a silent thunderstorm, a whisper.

_The universe is a dark place when you’re alone._

She forced herself out of her reverie, the return of the outside world like a shock of icy water.

A tall officer, wearing a long white cape and polished black boots, stepped in before her. Rey was bewildered at first, but then immediately remembered who she was supposed to be.

The officer bowed lightly, and she replied with a nod, then wondered whether her persona was important enough for a simple nod. Would a bow have been more appropriate?

“Mistress Ïrranya,” he said smoothly. “We are so very honoured and pleased that you would be present today.”

He gave her a smile that seemed to cause him great difficulties. It certainly didn’t reach his charcoal eyes, which stayed cold and indifferent.

“Now, of course, it is most convenient for us to be able to gather our most devoted supporters at an event like this—on this occasion perhaps in particular—"

The officer seemed to interpret her silence as confusion. He frowned slightly.

“Ah—so you do not know, then? I should have thought—well, you are not the only one here. Most of these people have not heard this news yet.”

“A special occasion, then?” she said. “Something other than the successful invasion of Coruscant?”

“Yes—indeed, something quite different, on this day in particular. But forgive me, Mistress, since you have been kept in ignorance, I shall not be the one to spoil the surprise.”

With those words, he turned around and left, leaving Rey alone with her thoughts and confusion.

Something was going to happen during this reception; which she apparently ought to have been aware of beforehand. Something of great significance, enough for the First Order to gather so many of their most powerful supporters here on Naator… Could it even have something to do with the very reason the three of them had been sent here in the first place? Or was this something else entirely?

A wave of sudden doubt threatened to overflow her—it was like an endless cycle, she thought; a chase after something far greater, something that would, despite their ceaseless efforts, always be one step ahead…

And then, just as suddenly, she felt the presence again; only this time, there were no words spoken. She held her breath, wondering, waiting.

It was a feeling of regret, of bitterness. It was soft and silent, a longing… suddenly she felt that same longing; to know, to find, to discover. It was a piece of her, in a different form. An echo of herself.

She tried to reach out, to feel that shapeless presence, but too late—already it was fading into the shadows once more.

A tall woman stepped into Rey’s view. She had a sharp, almost predatory face, and her dark hair was drawn back into a tight bun. The woman nodded as a greeting and held out a hand for Rey to shake.

“Ba’quess,” the woman said firmly.

“Ïrranya,” said Rey, freely assuming that the other’s exclamation had been a name.

The Mandalorian name did not seem new to Ba’quess. “From Mandalore, yes,” she said, gesturing towards Rey’s impressive warrior gown. “I’ve heard of you. Good things, significant things indeed. But we mustn’t talk away,” she added with a cool smile. “Strictly classified information, after all. Wouldn’t look good if it reached the ears of the public before the time is right. Although several systems will soon learn of it—if they haven’t already. Coruscant was a special case, was it not? How are your people proceeding?”

“Well enough. You can rest assured that our people are competent enough for the task,” said Rey, hoping intensely that she wouldn’t be asked for more details on the subject. “But successful projects demand their own time, don’t they?” she added.

“Indeed, indeed…” said the other woman. Then, suddenly, “You should really try that one. It’s delightful.”

She gestured towards the untouched drink in Rey’s hand, then excused herself and disappeared in the vast crowd.

Rey, standing once again by herself, frowned beneath her mask, feeling more mystified than ever. This Mistress Ïrranya appeared to be a far more significant person than they’d ever imagined.

As an instinctive attempt to become somewhat enlightened, she closed her eyes and reached out with the Force. If there was anything unnatural, a darkness that might become a threat, she would be able to sense it… but she felt only the bright glow of the lives around her; dim, indistinguishable figures drifting just beyond her reach.

She did sense something else, something that gave her an extreme feeling of relief. She opened her eyes and moved in between a group of people, towards the place where she’d sensed Finn and Poe standing, 3PO next to them. The golden droid started when he noticed her.

“Ah! Sirs, I believe I have located our targeted person.”

Ignoring the droid as she leaned closer to Finn, Rey hissed, “Where have you been? You left me at the gate!”

“Sorry about that. We didn’t mean to split up,” Finn said quickly.

“One could also describe the situation as _you_ disappearing from _us_ ,” remarked Poe, “but sure, let’s not waste any more time.”

He moved closer so that the three of them were standing in a circle, their conversation relatively safe from eventual eavesdroppers.

“So… this is some place, eh?” muttered Finn quietly, glancing up toward the high ceilings.

“Have you found out anything?” said Rey in an almost-whisper—with the voice-distorting visor it sounded like the crackle of a broken comm-link.

“Not really,” said Poe. “Just been trying to stay relatively out of sight from our uniformed friends. Not too easy to be quiet and casual when you’re wearing these.” He gestured towards the uniform and the armour.

Rey looked around, and lowered her voice further. “Well, I talked to some people just before. This is no ordinary event. Something is going to take place—soon. It could be an announcement, an unveiling—anything.”

“Do you think it has something to do with the operation?” Finn said. “The rumors, the amount of materiel concentrated on one system…”

“I’ve thought the same,” she said. “And of course, it is possible, but it could be something else entirely, something else that we don’t know about… I can’t sense anything that should be unusual, but—"

“Jedi sensations and speculations aside,” Poe said, “I suggest we stay on the guard, keep our eyes and ears alert. If it is as Rey’s been told, chances are we’ll find out about it soon enough.”

None of them could find any objection to that, and so they fell silent—a tense silence, as they all attempted to look casual, in a place where neither of them couldn’t possibly have fit less in.

Rey let her gaze sweep across the room once more. Nothing seemed yet unusual; the guests blending in among the black-clad officers, serving droids moving in between the groups of people, balancing large trays loaded with drinks atop their heads.

Was it coincidental, or did some of the high-ranking officers begin to move towards the dark podium in the middle of the hall; a podium Rey had only discovered just now… They were gathering around it, but none of them stepped up onto it, as if they were all collectively waiting for something to happen, a sign to be given. They were positioning themselves so that the highest-ranking with their long capes stood in the front. Their formation was military, their stance perfectly straight.

Then, a deep, vibrating, dissonant note sounded throughout the room, as if someone had rung an enormous gong somewhere in the mountain. All talk died out almost immediately, and everyone in attendance turned their eyes toward the center. Rey tensed. Her gaze didn’t waver from the podium.

An officer stepped forward. Rey recognized the person with whom she had talked earlier. Again, she felt an inscrutable shadow presence touching her mind.

The officer started speaking in a powerful voice:

“To all the supporters of our righteous government and the Supreme Leader, to all the faithful servants of our cause; we bring to you the voice of General Armitage Hux—may his message reach all the people of the galaxy before long. May the First Order rise in power greater than any empire ever seen.”

He turned around, raising his hand in a gesture; a signal. A towering image shot up from the large podium, which she realized had never actually been a podium, but an enormous holoprojector.

And what she saw, and heard, from that live holo made her heart drop.

_______________________________

 

It was a scene not unlike a previous one of the kind.

Magnificent banners in red and black hung from every high wall, billowing in the wind. There was a towering podium of stone looming over the wide plaza. Few figures were visible on the podium; officers in silver lined coats, behind them a squad of stormtroopers in gleaming white armour—the high-ranking officers could thus look down upon the crowd on the plaza below whilst remaining in a rightful position above them all. So high above, really, that when standing down on the plaza the officers with their perfect composure, fine clothing and shining insignias would appear as figures the size of dolls, their faces little blurs of colour.

To use the word crowd, as a way to describe the people gathered on the plaza, would be wrong—no crowd of sentient beings had ever been more faceless, more systemized, more silent. They were an army, ready to march into battle. Turn silence into destruction. The thousands upon thousands of stormtroopers were terrifying in their silence, in their unfathomable numbers.

All this was on the surface of a planet, but the massive walls around the plaza and the podium hid the world’s natural landscape from view. Everywhere were cameras, ready to record every bit of what was about to take place.

The deafening silence reigned for a few seconds, only broken by the howling of the wind. It was as though the world was holding its breath. Then a single person stepped out to the edge of the podium.

From below, the male figure would look as small and faceless as the rest, but the second he moved all the cameras zoomed in on him, making sure that every word he spoke would be transmitted to even the farthest corners of the galaxy. So that every world, every soul, would hear the message.

His gaze fixed upon his silent army, General Armitage Hux started speaking.

“A new order has arisen. _We_ have arisen.

“The New Republic fell—not at the cause of war, but as the result of the destruction it brought upon itself. A mere _shadow_ —a shadow of leadership, a government that tore itself apart from within, allowed itself to decay with the _poison_ of its own inefficiency. The sort of inefficiency, of weakness, which cannot be allowed to persist, which must be ultimately overcome.

“The glorious Empire brought the galaxy control. _Safety_ against the lowest criminals and warmongers who wished to destroy a lasting peace, to corrupt a galaxy which finally found itself in a state of order. The Empire gave us _efficiency_ , for our galaxy to expand and develop itself. To _prosper_ in our greatness. To remain and persist in our unity.

“Traitors, _liars_ , stole away from us that peace, that order, pushed askew the fragile balance of trust there exists between a government and its people. The people of the galaxy have all been deceived. We were promised peace, and a new government that would serve to the benefit of us all. _We_ have been _lied_ to, by the senators of a so-called Republic, and now by the group of loathsome rebels calling themselves the Resistance. These people are no more than that—rebels and _terrorists_ that seek only to destroy what little peace, what little stability we have managed to build from the chaos.

“But such crude idealism, anarchism, will exist no more. The idea of the Republic, representing a weak and unsustainable government which could never ensure the safety and prosperity of the galaxy, will exist no more. But _we_ will.

“We, as a government have taken it upon ourselves to bring back the safety and stability which existed during the Empire. Our Supreme Leader will see that the galaxy can be returned to its days of glory and triumph; of progress.

“ _A new era_ is about to begin! An era that will involve all the people of our galaxy. We must crush those weak and deluded minds; the terrorists and warmongers, for the greater good and safety of us all. For the future, and the future children of the galaxy. For the sake of stability and control, for the sake of a galaxy that will finally have the means of fulfilling its promise!

“Become a part of the new order as it rises! _This_ is the beginning of our age of greatness! _This_ is our new Galactic Empire!”

And as an echo of the lone, powerful voice still ringing over the plaza, the silence of thousands was broken, suddenly, by a roar—a sound that rose from the armies of an empire and reverberated through the crisp air, and through the minds of billions of people on millions of worlds scattered across the galaxy:

_“For the new Galactic Empire!”_

____________________________

 

The sudden silence, hanging tensely in the air, fragile as glass, was broken just as suddenly by applause.

The holo-image of the magnificent stone plaza, of the banners and the general and the army, flickered and vanished. On Naator, in the hall of the fortress within the mountain, the thunderous applause echoed between the stone walls.

Rey saw how the guests of the reception stood facing the podium; mimicking each other’s movements and expressions so that they appeared all the same—like clones, sensing an inexplicable relief in doing simply what everyone else was doing. All held aloft by the promise that they would have to think and to feel for themselves no more. They were all part of one group, one people; one empire.

She saw that the stony-faced people, those she had noticed the very moment she’d entered the room, still stood in silence. But their composure, their expressionless masks had begun to crack, as they found the reality they were facing to be exactly as dark as they had feared. Worry, hopelessness, shock. It didn’t matter now, for none of the large, cheering crowd seemed to take any notice of those few who remained silent, who weren’t part of their glorious phenomenon.

Rey wasn’t entirely sure whether what she felt was equal shock—truly, it didn’t feel too surprising. A step like this was something the Resistance had anticipated would happen, something the First Order would do eventually. Or rather, the new Galactic Empire. The Second Galactic Empire.

Finn was the first of them to break the silence.

“A terrorist group, are we now?” he said dryly.

“Expectedly,” murmured Poe. “They’re trying to do the same thing the old Empire did with the Alliance. Name us as the terrorists, the warmongers, as if they didn’t start the war themselves.”

Neither Poe nor Finn seemed to have much inclination to move. C-3PO’s face was turned towards the podium, eyes appearing to be staring unwaveringly as usual. She wondered whether he’d been recording the speech, whether they’d have the details with them in case they would need the data later… then thought it probably didn’t matter at all, for this was likely to have been transmitted via news holos to every inhabited system.

_Rey._

She forced her eyes shut, shook her head, trying to clear her mind—still, the voice grew stronger.

_Rey._

It was there again. Powerful and soft, distant and strangely close at the same time, as though somebody was whispering her name whilst standing right next to her.

Then, something almost like a _sigh._

_You have to continue, Rey. You have to_ move.

The light touch of something, a presence, as she had felt it before. It was a calm breeze caressing her mind—she imagined a mild wind rustling trough the leaves of trees, carrying with it the scent of something cool and dark and sweet…

She wanted to shove it away; part of her said she should. And at the same time, she didn’t want to. Right now, it seemed the greatest part of her wanted to follow that voice, to find, to _feel_ the truth. After all, those strange emotions she felt were mirrors of her own—the same despair, the same wonder, the same longing.

As conflict and doubt blazed in her, the whispered sound of her name reverberated through her once again; this time accompanied by a slight _push_. That was the only way she could describe the sudden feeling of urgency that woke in her.

That, along with the sound of her name spoken in a way she had never heard before…

_Once_ , some part of her remembered. _Once before…_

She opened her eyes, returning to the reality of the hall. She didn’t truly understand anything of what had just happened, but this wasn’t the moment to wonder or speculate.

“We need to move on…” she said. “This doesn’t have to change anything.”

C-3PO turned his golden head and torso towards her. “As far as we are able, we should proceed on the task that has been assigned us.”

Finn looked at her, and nodded slowly.

“The mission,” he said.

Poe leapt off the wall so quickly that his edges seemed to blur.

“The control departments. We need to get a map, some sort of overview of the fortress and its functions.”

Rey looked at the droid. “3PO, could you do that?”

“Why, naturally, if I could communicate with one of the systems that connect the computers of the different departments; a minor station would do.”

“Excellent.” Rey cast a look over the room in its entirety—down to the dark wall opposite the entrance, where there was a pair of small doors; exits to the deeper parts of the base. There was one at either end.

She inclined her head in the direction of the door closest to them. “We’ll get through there.”

Without further ado, she started moving toward the small exit, winding in and out between the groups of people still conversing, stony smiles so permanently plastered to their faces that Rey couldn’t have distinguished the real expressions from the fake.

_What a strange life_ , she thought.

Finn reached the door first. It was simple, black and rather anonymous. When it slid open, a narrow, dimly lit corridor was revealed.

No matter if trespassing like this was against the rules or not, it might still raise some suspicion to disappear this way. Finn cast a quick glance behind them, then gestured to the others. “No one’s watching. Let’s go.”

They hurried through the door. As it shut behind Rey, the sounds of the hall died away instantly, leaving only the sound of their footsteps on the polished floor.

The small, empty corridor widened to a sort of platform, from where the only way forward was an elevator—gleaming and new, as everything in the base seemed to be. Next to the elevator doors stood a station.

Rey moved closer, examining the panels and displays.

“3PO, could you connect with their main computer from here?” she said.

“Certainly, Miss Rey,” said the droid, standing silently for a moment, appearing to be communicating with the station’s small part of the fortress’ central computer. “This unit does seem to be rather simple, but it is after all only its job to keep a record of the different functions within the fortress. The controlling departments that we seek are on one of the very lowest levels; Level Nine.” The droid looked up at them. “Although it does not say anything of what we may find on the computers placed down there—they appear to be separated from the main computer, as a safety precaution.”

“Couldn’t have expected it to be too easy,” muttered Poe, turning towards the elevator. The metallic doors slid open without a sound. “We’d better hurry this up,” he added. “If we get as far as the control rooms without encountering any troops on our way, it’ll be a miracle.”

They all stepped into the elevator, Rey slightly hesitant.

“I’ve never tried an elevator that looked like this,” she said.

“This one’s newer, and faster,” said Finn.

“And it’ll take us deeper into this mountain than I like to think about,” added Poe, as the elevator jerked into motion.

“Not claustrophobic, are you?”

The pilot simply shrugged. “I prefer the heights.”

_Me, too_ , Rey thought absently, as they fell steadily deeper down.

_Rey._

_Stay out of sight._

_**Rey…** _

She gasped. It was stronger now, more intense. _Closer, yet still far away…_ The dam was breaking down, at last, and now there was nothing to stop the flood.

_As it was meant to be._

“Rey?” It was Finn’s voice, filled with worry. “Rey, are you alright?”

She swallowed. Nodded. Conflicting emotions blazed in her, and she suddenly wasn’t sure this mission had been a good idea at all.

After what could only have been seconds, they were brought to a stop. The doors slid open. Outside waited another corridor, but this one was different from the last. The floor was still dark and polished, but the walls on either side were the natural rock of the mountain. Only few lights were placed in the walls along the corridor, giving the dim impression of a tunnel.

In silence, they began walking. Their loud steps echoed off the walls of rock, ringing in the silence, and Rey wondered how far they’d get before they encountered someone on their way… though indeed this didn’t appear a place where many people came at all.

Finally, the corridor widened and split into a fork, and the two new corridors to the left and right both appeared more commonly used. Instinctively, they turned down right.

“Blasters ready,” whispered Rey, and saw that Finn and Poe already had their weapons raised. She reached for the lightsaber handle, hidden beneath her cloak, and felt an instant surge of calm.

Suddenly, there was a sound of heavy footsteps from the opposite direction. She immediately froze, her eyes searching until they found the niche of another elevator; a place where they’d be hidden from sight.

She flung herself into the small space, hauling a startled 3PO with her. Just as Poe and Finn hurried to join her, all of them crammed together and hopefully hidden in shadows, a patrol of six armoured stormtroopers walked by, silent beneath their helmets. Only when the last sound of footsteps had died away did the four of them dare to move back in the corridor.

They only had to walk a few meters before a door appeared on their left. It was closed, presumably locked, and on the wall next to the door was a small screen displaying a number of digits. To get in, one required a code.

“This must be it,” whispered Finn. The three of them stood for a moment, looking silently at each other—then Poe leveled his blaster at the screen, and fired.

The shot blasted it into pieces, leaving a considerable groove in the wall, the sound ringing dangerously loudly through the corridor. The heavy door slid open immediately with a high-pitched screech.

“You know, I probably could have gained us access in a less loud manner,” Rey pointed out.

“Unnecessary complication.”

Beyond the door was a dark room, lit only by the blinking light of the vast number of screens, panels and displays that filled it.

A single officer was there, apparently startled by the unexpected intrusion. Staring at the three armoured figures and the protocol droid in the doorway, he opened his mouth to call out—but before a sound could pass his lips, Finn moved forward and delivered a blow to the man’s head with the hilt of his blaster. The officer fell to the floor, knocked out cold.

Rey and Poe hurried in after Finn, 3PO entering as the last in obvious distress.

“Close the door,” demanded Finn.

“Don’t blast it, Poe!” said Rey. “We might be trapped inside!”

The pilot shook his head in disbelief. “How stupid do you think I am?”

She moved to the matching screen on this side of the door, hoping that these mechanisms worked in the way she was accustomed to, and tapped a number of switches. The door slid shut.

“Now,” she said, “it should be locked from the outside.”

Poe immediately flung himself down in one of the black chairs that stood before the row of screens, after taking off his helmet and—unnecessarily—tousling his dark hair. Finn and Rey rushed over beside him to watch along.

“What if someone came?” said Finn, referring to the Mandalorian helmet now lying abandoned on the floor.

“If someone blasted down the door,” said Rey, as she freed herself from her own helmet—what a relief to be rid of the extra weight, of the inconveniently limited sight—and almost startled to hear her normal voice, “I’m fairly certain they’d find our presence rather suspicious, helmets or not.”

Poe was checking the information on the screens as they spoke.

“What we’ll need,” he said slowly, “is to find their line of communication, the signals they use when transmitting classified information between the bases. If we could stumble across some transmissions speaking of, say, a certain destination for a group of freighters—"

“—we might find out the exact place all the extra materiel is being sent to,” finished Rey.

“And, if we’re lucky, what it’s used for,” said Finn.

“If we discover what planet or system the materiel is directed at, it shouldn’t be difficult to find out what they’re working on there,” said Poe, his eyes glinting.

C-3PO moved forward, appearing to examine the screens before them.

“Sir, if I could get in connection with and talk to one of their main operating computers; assuming I can convince it that I am one of their own, it should be no difficult to trace their lines of communication,” said the droid. “We will be looking for older messages, regarding the matter of importance, which should still be available among their data.”

Poe made a sort of half-wave that meant something like ‘sure, go on’. The three of them could then only wait as 3PO attempted to communicate with the computer—Rey still found it fascinating the way droids could ‘talk’ with computers and exchange information, almost like a conversation.

All three of them leapt up when, shortly after, 3PO exclaimed, “Sirs! Miss Rey! I believe I have located the communication line!”

Poe leaned in and tapped one of the displays; immediately, a blinking image shot up on the nearest screen. There were several dots of bright red light, over what could have been a simple map—fortresses and bases, Rey thought, of the First Order, spread across the galaxy.

Between the dots were drawn thin lines of bright blue; some of them only connecting a pair, some of them crossing several places on the map. The different lines were blinking—flaring up and then fading—with a short frequency, some of them more brightly than others.

Finn looked positively impressed. “But that must be their entire network of interactive communication!” he said. “Well done, 3PO!”

“Why, thank you very much, sir; after all, I am only pleased to be of service. I do believe this network is mostly limited to messages concerning their various projects in production, as well as communication between member-worlds.”

“It’ll do for us now,” Poe said. “With some of these transmissions being sent from on high, we’ll be able to get a good glimpse of what’s happening at the highest chain of command.”

“Look—that big one must represent the main fortress on Vennarn,” Rey said, pointing to the biggest red dot located at the edge of the map, which appeared to send off a positive hailstorm of blinks to surrounding bases.

“We’d probably be able to zoom in on one of the lines to view the actual messages—old ones and new,” continued Poe. “But since we haven’t got a clue where the assumed project would be located—"

“We’ll just have to try and pick some of them, won’t we?” said Finn.

Rey stared at the screen unwaveringly, noticing if something stood out differently. They’d be looking for either what appeared as a remarkably busy communication line between certain fortresses—or maybe what looked as a large number of transmissions directed at a certain point—

Suddenly she saw it. “There,” she said. Poe immediately advanced on the place she pointed out; one of the larger red dots located at the uppermost corner of the map.

They all fell silent as the name came up on the screen. Rey exhaled sharply with sudden understanding.

“Mandalore,” murmured Finn darkly.

Indeed, that red dot resembled a large operational base apparently located on Mandalore. A significant and influential world over the ages—now operating with the First Order. Not that this information should be new to them.

“Could this be it?” asked Finn. Though Rey knew the operation could take place anywhere, this option would draw some logical connections.

“There’s a ton of transmissions going in and out this moment,” said Poe, “but we’ll probably need some of the older ones to be sure.”

“I know the First Order ships tons of iron away for their different building projects,” said Finn. “If some larger construction is in progress on Mandalore they’ll be in connection with—"

“Mustafar,” said Rey, suddenly remembering a bit of overheard information.

“There’s been cargo ships dispatched from Mustafar,” the pilot said after a moment of scrolling. “Followed only by standard protocol messages… _‘Order received—twice the load requested for next week…’, ‘Special shipping for project X-IV requested in a fortnight…’_ —3PO, can you save these things?”

“Not a word shall go unrecorded,” assured the droid promptly.

“We’ll need messages from higher up,” said Rey. “See if there are any transmissions from Vennarn.”

She felt a strange sort of excitement bustling within her, tension from the danger of someone becoming alerted to their presence, and the thrill of actually discovering something that might be of vast significance.

Finn frowned and leaned closer. “Wouldn’t there be limited access only to messages from the main?”

“The location of the main fortress isn’t public,” she said. “Few people even know about Vennarn. We can hope that they don’t think extra means of security would be necessary.”

“Seeing as we’ve made it this far, we should be able to… Ah, here we go,” muttered Poe. Rey felt as though her eyes were rotating back and forth to try and follow the different information showing on the screen as it flew by. Most of it were short, vague transmissions about the project going by the name ‘X-IV’—messages so simple and brief that she couldn’t gather anything useful from them. Suddenly, however, something else came up.

“This transmission seems to carry some larger attachments,” informed 3PO. “It could very well be maps, drawings or instructions for the project.”

Rey felt excitement surge in her once more, even before Poe opened the attachment of the message and the words ‘X-IV PROJECT’ came up as a headline.

They were drawings—images of a building project by Mandalorians, by order from the main fortress, and it wasn’t a new base, or a weapon. At least not in a direct sense.

“Are these… Star Destroyers?” said Poe quietly.

“No, they can’t be,” said Finn. “They’re something else. Something new, most likely.”

“I’ve never seen a model like this,” mused Rey—she had, after all, an unusually great knowledge of warships.

The three-dimensional model on the screen showed a battle ship, smaller in scale than an old _Imperial_ -class Destroyer, built in a different, sleeker way—it was dark and sharp-edged, built more in the shape of a dagger than a spear-head. Certainly a ship made for greater speed and maneuverability in battle—something which probably made it a phenomenal tool of destruction.

“Though smaller than other First Order battle cruisers, these Destroyers will have at least the same armaments and firepower as the _Finalizer_ ,” Rey informed, pointing to the lines of text appearing at the bottom of the picture. Whereas Star Destroyers, she knew, were built as large floating cities, with room for a crew counting tens of thousands, these ships seemed able to function only with the help of a skeleton crew, supported by cores of artificial intelligence to make the necessary calculations. Instead of levels of rooms and personal space for crewmembers, here, the spare room had been used for impressive amounts of armoury; and a heavy protective shield enveloping the ship made it practically impenetrable against artillery fire, laser beams or radiation.

Rey was just wondering exactly how many starfighters it would take to attempt an assault on a battle ship like this, when Poe said, “True enough, they’re new, and probably deadly in combat, but we’ve been up against Star Destroyers and other battle cruisers before…”

“That’s not all,” said Finn quietly. He had been staring at the screen for a while, his gaze lowered to the lines of information still scrolling by at the bottom of the image. “They have placed an order from highest command, to be executed by their allied supporters on Mandalore. _‘A fleet of the new model X-IV battle cruisers to be finished in time for the announcement of sovereignty.'_ ”

“That must be this. The speech,” Rey said. “It has happened right now.”

“What do they mean by ‘fleet’?” Finn said. “A special fleet of hundreds? Thousands?”

“’In time for the announcement’,” she whispered. “That has to mean they would have the fleet ready, most likely sometime _before_ the announcement—maybe this is the fleet they used to invade Coruscant.”

“’Allied supporters’,” said Poe. “Well, at least now we know who we are, right?”

“ _’The project X-IV is to be conducted by Mistress Ïrranya of Mandalore’_ ,” Finn read as new information blinked into existence on the screen, confirming Poe’s assumption.

Rey didn’t feel truly surprised by this—she had known, had suspected that this Ïrranya must be a person of significance. It would also explain exactly why the representatives from Mandalore had been invited to Naator. And now they knew; it was Mistress Ïrranya who was to command and see to that the project of constructing their new fleet went as planned.

“They wanted to keep this special force a secret…” said Poe, as if he was thinking out loud. “Probably to keep it as a surprise—a hidden weapon to strike with in the exact right moment, to create an image of even greater military power.”

_But a weapon to be used against the remaining systems across the galaxy still not under their control_ , thought Rey, _or something designed specifically to be used against_ us _, the Resistance?_

Would it be enough to defeat them in open battle, to destroy them with a single stroke?

If all had proceeded as the First Order had planned, if everything had gone the way they thought, the fleet would already be completed at this moment. It might already have been put into use.

They all fell silent, trying to comprehend this new, crucial information. After a short time, C-3PO burst out, “But I simply don’t understand how a military fleet of these assumed numbers could possibly be constructed within such short time! According to the date of the first transmissions, this would have been a very sudden demand. Even on a world of its own, a project of that scale would require a number of employees that seems—"

“I think I know the answer to that,” said Poe, a sudden bitterness in his voice. “Mandalore has been a world in decay for decades now—organized crime and cartels growing everywhere. Recently, especially, we’ve seen several signs suggesting that the Mandalorian slave trade has reached its new golden age.”

“And how convenient for the First Order,” added Finn dryly. “They wouldn’t think to stop the lawlessness on a world if it served them better to let it remain that way. It would be easy for them to have slaves transported from faraway systems, paying the Mandalorian crime leaders to do the job.”

All the words and pieces of information whirled inside Rey’s head; the memory of a hangar filled with slaves, a singing woman brutally killed by stormtroopers, the powerlessness… all mixing up with a maelstrom of new stray thoughts: _Mandalore—Ïrranya—the First Order—slaves… A project—a fleet—a new weapon—the new Empire…_

She straightened her body and shook her head, trying to focus on the task ahead.

_Rey._

_Stay out of sight._

The mission.

They were currently on Naator, having trespassed into the depths of an enemy fortress, deceivers in disguise. And every moment longer they spent down here, the chances of being discovered, of being recognized, would increase.

In that very moment, an alarm began to sound—a single, high-pitched note that reverberated through the stone walls of the mountain, sending jolts of adrenaline through her veins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my lovely readers; thank you. I am infinitely grateful for you all <3


	33. Fierce Spark

The ringing noise continued to increase in volume, and Rey had to fight an urge to cover her ears from the penetrating sound.

They all leapt up when the alarm sounded. Finn looked worriedly away from the screen with its data and three-dimensional images, to the heavy door.

“You think they’ve discovered we’re missing?” he asked.

“I think they’ve found out somebody is inside the fortress who shouldn’t be,” said Poe.

Meanwhile, Rey concentrated to catch any unusual sound, any change that might occur, which proved to be rather difficult over the talking and that constant horrid noise…

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the alarm stopped—its ringing still echoing through the lower levels of the mountain. They were all quiet and still, listening, waiting for something to happen.

Then heavy footsteps sounded from the corridor on the other side, followed by an insistent, thunderous banging on the metallic door.

“Open the door,” a muffled voice sounded. “We know you’re in there. Surrender or we’ll blast our way in.”

There was a short silence. Finn and Poe were looking at each other, presumably at a loss.

“Open the door,” repeated the voice. “This is your final warning.”

Unlike the rest, Rey had fallen into a state of perfect calm. As though she was acting utterly on instinct, she demanded quietly, “Put your helmets back on.”

The two others obeyed after a brief moment of hesitation. She, too let the heavy Mandalorian helmet settle back over her head and face, again feeling uncomfortably hindered by the narrow field of sight.

“Take out your blasters and stand right next to the door,” she said. The two of them now seemed to have understood what she wanted.

They positioned themselves next to the door on the left side, and Rey settled on the opposite side, finally drawing forward the coppery handle of her lightsaber.

She was about to tell 3PO to find cover as well, but then figured out another strategy. “3PO—stay where you are. Just stand so you’re facing the door.”

“Stand back,” said the voice from outside. “We’re blasting down the door.”

Seconds after, the air was filled with a deafening _boom_. The door trembled violently for a moment before blasting apart in a cloud of debris.

Through a lingering cloud of dark smoke came a squad of eight stormtroopers, all carrying heavy blasters. They all came to a halt as they realized that the room appeared at first sight only to be occupied by the protocol droid.

3PO was standing in the middle of the control room, frantically waving his golden arms up and down.

“Oh, my!” said the droid. “What a noise, what a spectacle! I am terribly sorry; I was not aware that droids are not supposed to be in here—"

The troopers looked somewhat perplexedly at each other, as though in doubt of what exactly they were supposed to do next.

Rey had known that their partially sheltered positions would give them but a minimal advantage; the stormtroopers, though hindered in sight by the helmets, were bound to turn just the slightest bit around eventually, where they would face them. True enough, a trooper noticed and called out only seconds after their forced entrance, but then Poe had already fired a shot to the trooper’s leg, and they collapsed to the ground.

At the time the remaining stormtroopers had turned to face their opponents and raised their blasters, Finn and Poe had delivered two more shots, this time aiming for their victims’ abdomen. A clever target—with the heavy armour, the blows wouldn’t wound the stormtroopers fatally, but still disable them enough so they wouldn’t pose any threat.

Two of them immediately advanced on her. She felt the adrenaline, the anticipation of the fight already rising up in her… to test her strength against a real enemy once again, even if it was only a pair of stormtroopers, felt like a strange relief—and it felt so easy. Dangerously easy. Acting from pure instinct, she raised the lightsaber, ignited it in a glow of brightest golden, and drove it down in an arc to sever the stormtrooper’s arm from their shoulder—all before they had time to fire a single shot.

She dodged a blast from the second trooper and raised a gloved hand, a powerful wave of energy streaming from her fingers, sending the trooper soaring into the panels along the wall from where they fell to the floor, unconscious.

A third stormtrooper was already advancing. A blast avoided her by an inch; then, without a moment of hesitation, she turned and drove the lightsaber blade straight through their chest.

She felt a brief, odd wave of cold run over her as the trooper collapsed onto the floor, never to rise again… but she willed her mind cold, calm. This was war, she thought grimly. People died on both sides in a war. She had killed enemy troopers before and she would do it again, if it would all serve the better in the end.

She hoped it would. Though killing another being could hardly ever be the will of the Force.

She registered that the sounds of fighting in the room had stilled. She looked up, deactivating her lightsaber and saw Finn and Poe standing at the exit. Six stormtroopers were lying on the floor (she assumed the others had fled to call for assistance)—two of them unconscious, one appearing too heavily wounded in their leg to stand. Three of them killed—quickly, with precision.

“That was effective,” murmured Poe. “A classic trick…”

“Sirs! Miss Rey! I do highly suggest we leave now,” cried 3PO, “before more stormtroopers arrive!”

There was a clatter as Finn’s helmet fell to the floor, followed by the plates of armour, all carelessly left in a heap.

“First things first,” he said. “Never wearing such things again. Honestly… I thought I was done with helmets for good.”

Rey and Poe quickly freed themselves from the armour as well. From this moment on, their disguise would only slow them down. This would give them a considerable advantage in mobility, against the First Order’s stormtroopers.

As soon as they were all feeling like themselves again, and considerably lighter, Rey said, “Let’s go.”

They went through the dramatically blasted doorway, leaving behind a chaotic mess of debris and bodies, and set off down the corridor in the opposite direction of where they’d come.

They moved through the web of corridors within the mountain; always choosing as direct a route as possible, hoping they would eventually reach the end of the mountain. They moved as fast as they could, running when the corridors seemed abandoned, leaping between grooves and niches when they heard the sounds of troopers approaching, pressing themselves into the shadows to stay out of sight. At least they now had the advantage of their own silent footsteps, which made it easy to distinguish the sounds of stormtroopers or officers marching by.

Rey felt exasperated though she tried hard not to let it show. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest, filled with the anticipation of a threat, of being captured; wondering whether they were indeed going in the right direction, or somehow heading deeper into the heart of enemy territory. All of it mixed with a strange, frantic anxiety. Maybe it was the mountain itself, the knowledge of being trapped under tons of solid stone—after all, she had been accustomed to always being able to view the sky above her.

But at least they were _moving_ , at least the four of them had so far managed to remain out of sight.

And whenever she thought she heard that voice inside her mind, whenever she felt that other presence which she tried not to focus on too much—although it sometimes seemed impossible—she only moved faster.

The only slight problem was C-3PO. The protocol droid, though familiar with perilous situations, was clearly not built for this type of endeavours and the physical agility and stealth they demanded.

“By the Maker,” said 3PO, as they were once again trying to stay hidden in a groove in the mountain wall, watching out for when the coast would become clear again. “What a hazardous quest this has turned out to be; just as I anticipated it would all along. I told the princess herself, but sometimes people simply don’t seem to—"

“But remember, 3PO, we couldn’t have done this without your help,” said Rey quietly, despite herself torn between exasperation and amusement. “Right now, you’re the most important of us all. You’re the one carrying the data.”

All the data they’d done so much to retrieve. The proof of military movements that could change everything, that could turn the tide of the war—all that remained now was to get that information delivered safely back to the Resistance; to people who would never hesitate to launch themselves into the fight against that growing power.

“Certainly, I did not sign up for this,” said the droid suddenly.

“Did any of us?” muttered Poe. Rey had a feeling he didn’t refer as much to this specific mission as to the war that had made it necessary in the first place.

She noticed that, as they proceeded through the deeper corridors of the base, they almost had the space to themselves—meaning they were able to move considerably faster, not having to fear for the sudden appearance of stormtroopers. The corridor was starting to slope upwards, as if leading them back up to natural ground level, away from the depths they had emerged from. It also seemed more roughly carved from the rock, as though these passages were older, not necessarily created for the convenience of the First Order.

They had met no troopers in a while—maybe they had really given up the search for the intruders, or simply been led down other corridors than the ones Rey, Finn and Poe had chosen.

Was it simply her imagination, or did the before so dim passage suddenly seem brighter? Could it be daylight, peering in from above?

At some point Finn brought them all to a halt.

“It seems the coast is clear, but we need to figure out where we’re heading,” he said. “We don’t know where the corridor’s going to surface. We don’t want to end up in the middle of a First Order hangar.”

“Sir, if I may—I believe I will have received enough information from the fortress’s main computer to visualize a map of these corridors,” said 3PO. “From there, I should be able to pinpoint our current position.”

As the protocol droid searched newly acquired data for their location, Rey walked closer to the wall, placing her hand right at the center between the crossing passages. The rock felt coarse and cold beneath her touch, solid with the massive, constant force of the mountain. Here it had stood for presumably thousands of years—here it would remain for just as long, through the countless ages and wars of those who inhabited the land around it; until the people would begin to use their horrifying weapons to erode the roots of the mountain itself, force it at last to sink into oblivion.

Even though she knew those things, or perhaps for that very reason, she thought the mountain felt almost alive beneath her touch, solid and real, and she thought of the massive force it had taken to grow such giants from the earth, to reach, infinitely, for the skies.

“The corridor will lead us straight out of the mountain if we proceed in this direction,” she heard 3PO say. “If we follow the passage to the left, we will soon reach the place where it opens to the surface.”

“And do you have an idea what we’ll find there?” asked Poe.

“Certainly; it is a platform open to the elements, connected to the mountainside. The natural platform was eventually made into a hangar and landing spot for travelers.” The droid turned his illuminated eyes to look directly at Rey. “According to the data, this hangar is used by locals as well as the First Order. With any luck we might be able to blend in among the common people using the landing platform, and find a transport to get us off the planet.”

_________________________

The cold, brisk air hit Rey like a blow to the face the moment they reached the end of the passage leading out of the mountain. The wind blew furiously through the deep valleys in the landscape, hitting the mountain wall towering over the wide landing platform with massive force.

From what she could see, the natural platform was about a third part up the mountainside—a position so high that the valley below seemed only a blur of colours, but felt nevertheless dwarfing when she gazed up at the mountain top above.

The landing platform stretched out from the mountainside they’d just left behind—exiting through a small opening, barely visible from outside if you didn’t know it was there. Farthest away, closest to the sudden edge of the cliff, was a large number of ships; from small starfighters to transports capable of carrying up to ten passengers, to freighters from all territories appearing to carry a vast assortment of cargo. Placed closer to the mountain, and to them, was a smaller hangar, enclosed by a concrete wall, containing row after row of First Order TIE fighters. A bit away from that place stood several stalls. Rey assumed that those were the possession of the owners of the ships not belonging to the First Order—many of them were built simply from weathered wood, and several were decorated with banners and flags in fading colours.

Some people were clustered around the stalls—most looked like common people, travelers and locals. There were no First Order troopers or officers in sight.

She pulled up the hood of her cloak, and began to walk towards the place it seemed right to be. _Just act naturally, blend in_ —and then, hopefully, no one would think to ask questions of who they were, where they’d come from. People hardly seemed to have noticed them anyway.

As they approached the first wooden stall, Rey immediately sensed the atmosphere that hung as a veil over the people here. Most of them wore hooded cloaks like herself, their faces hidden in the shadows, keeping their heads down and their gazes on the rock beneath, as though wishing only to remain unnoticed. The travelers moved quickly, keeping quiet—only few words were exchanged between the owners of the stalls and the customers when necessary. All of them afraid, she thought, of speaking too loudly, of taking the one wrong step that would make their lives collapse and fall apart, to stray away from the decided course. The fortress nearby, the constant, oppressive presence of the First Order, all seemed as tall and looming as the mountains.

The four of them halted, standing in a line that had formed in front of the first stall. The Ithorian male standing behind the counter would speak with the different travelers as they came forth, and present for them the type of ship he could offer which might suit their needs.

She heard Finn and Poe discussing their options for transportation somewhere behind her, but their words seemed somehow muffled and distant. It had been like this for some time now, during the last bit they’d walked inside the mountain.

Something else was occupying her mind—something that made all else, everything present, seem simpler, insignificant. Part of her wanted to listen, to feel once again a part of the world around her, but it was all white noise in her ears.

“We could try to hire a ship of our own…” she heard Finn say.

“Won’t be that simple,” Poe replied. “It’ll be best if we could get some cheap transportation back to Uerrann-II—that’s a bigger place, it’d be easier for us to find our own transport back to the base. Travelling several shorter distances also makes us more difficult to track, if the First Order—"

There were a couple of Lonerans ahead of them now, speaking heatedly with the Ithorian, exchanging streams of words Rey couldn’t catch. She was suddenly reminded of Unkar Plutt’s station in Niima Outpost—of waiting silently in a line along with several other scavengers, the dusty heat under the tent scorching… and that came on top of many other physical discomforts; the sweat and dust sticking to her skin, the maddening dryness of her throat, the constant hollow feeling in her stomach, the exhaustion in her limbs after a whole day of working. And all that, only to be met with the unpleasant sight of Unkar Plutt, greeting her with his usual superiority and indifference—after all, they were only scavengers; hardly worth more than slaves…

_“How can I help you?”_

She startled as the owner of the stall suddenly spoke, having been lost in thoughts. She tried to look as though she was paying attention while avoiding direct eye contact. By keeping her eyes down on the wooden counter, hopefully her face would remain mostly in shadow, making it difficult to recognize.

“We’re looking for transportation to the Uerrann-II station,” said Finn when she didn’t answer at once. “We’d like to leave as soon as possible.”

The Ithorian looked at their little group for a moment, then asked, _“And how many passengers?”_

“That’ll be three,” said Poe, “and a protocol droid. Three persons and a droid.”

“No,” said Rey suddenly. It felt almost like someone else was speaking through her. Her voice was surprisingly calm and steady. “Three in total; _two_ persons and a droid.”

She could instantly feel the weight of two pairs of eyes as both Poe and Finn’s heads snapped around to stare at her. She didn’t flinch, only remained perfectly calm and silent, her gaze still on the wooden board flecked with lines. This wasn’t a sudden, rash decision, she sensed. It was something that she felt had somehow been decided all along—an intuition, a feeling that had surfaced in her while they were still walking through the mountain, or perhaps earlier yet.

“What d’you think you’re doing?” hissed Poe, as Finn whispered, “Why are you saying that? R—"

“You will return without me,” she said. Finally, she looked up and into Finn’s eyes. “Go back—make sure the data is delivered safely to the right people.”

Poe made an exasperated gesture. “Come on—listen, we don’t have time for this—"

“Look,” said Rey, her voice growing more entreating while sinking further, ensuring that people wouldn’t be able to hear her words. “You have to go without me. I know it doesn’t make sense, but there’s something I must do. I’m sorry—I can’t explain it. 3PO and the information he carries is what’s most important right now. You have to get 3PO back to the base. To Leia.”

She didn’t say how little she felt sure _why_ she was doing this, saying these things. She thought she could hardly explain that strange intuition, the now irresistible _pull_ inside her—like a constant presence, pushing aside all other thoughts and needs. How could she explain that such simple things as knowing her destination, knowing the _purpose_ , now seemed to matter little compared with that feeling?

“Rey,” Finn said, pulling her aside. People were starting to murmur impatiently, but in that moment he didn’t seem to notice or care. “You can’t do this. Damn it, you can’t leave like this. Not now.”

Her eyes were damp. She looked silently at her friend, and didn’t reply. His eyes had a frantic look in them—some of it was fear, she realized. For her.

“Rey… Just, at least, tell me where you’re going; tell me what you need…” he whispered. “I want to help… I promise I’ll try to understand. You don’t have to do this alone—”

_But I don’t know the answer myself_ , she thought.

They watched each other in silence. Something in Finn’s eyes grew hard. Pained.

“I can’t,” she said at last. “I can’t tell you.”

He was quiet for a moment, then nodded once. His expression was one of grief.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I wish I could tell you where I’m going. I wish I could tell you why… Bur this is something that I must do, alone. It has to be like this.” _There is no other way._

She looked at their faces after turn. In Poe’s she saw confusion, maybe blame. 3PO seemed bewildered. Finn’s gaze was fixed on her, and she thought he looked mostly lost.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again. Then, steeling herself, she turned around and began to walk, away from her friends.

She halted when she had reached the part of the platform farthest away from the mountain wall, at the very edge of the cliff where only a couple of larger transports stood. One of the ships was about to depart—a Coruscanti transport by its looks, built for up to eight passengers aside from the crew; the sort of transport that would carry its passengers to whichever destination they desired.

Lightly, as if by instinct, Rey began walking up the ramp. She entered the main passenger compartment of the ship, which was long with soft benches along the walls, and already occupied by four other travelers.

A crew member in a light uniform came up to her, and asked for her destination.

She only hesitated for a second. “Pamarthe,” she said, and the man nodded and headed back to the cockpit as she sat down on one of the benches—watching through a narrow viewport as the transport took off and soared into the sky.

_Pamarthe._ Where did that come from? Rey knew she had heard the planet mentioned before, fleetingly. Yes, she knew the name. There were some connections drawn in her mind… Pamarthe—something about pilots and Port in a Storm—some female pilot…

She straightened as they rose up high enough for the mountains to look like miniatures. Somehow, everything they’d done, everything they’d been through in order to get here, now seemed smaller, of less importance. It was all simply miniature figures and thoughts—like grains of sand in the desert, like a single planet among the stars of the sky.

Now, only her present moment remained, and whatever would come after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you all; the wonderful people who read this fic, the whole amazing Reylo family - can you believe we've made it this far? It's been an absolutely incredible ride, and the best two years ever. I love you all. <3  
> This will be the last chapter I post before I go to watch The Last Jedi; so... see you on the other side. And may the Force be with you, always.


	34. Bright Flame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He watched the moving image that was her, as if it could answer all his questions.
> 
>  
> 
> _What have you made me, bright one?_

The chamber was dark as a night sky without its stars.

Kylo Ren was standing there alone—a tall, lone figure in that apparently insignificant room, with no windows or other light sources whatsoever; not even the blazing, artificial light from the corridor just outside, for the only door was shut. Against the light and life of the vast fortress, and also, one could easily imagine, from the rest of the world in its entirety.

He liked it that way, the soft, soothing absence of light and all useless noise. It was an illusion of solitude, freedom even—but then, no more than an illusion. He was never quite alone.

The only light came from the hologram in his hand.

He let his mind return from a place that was far away—a strange place of light and shadow, of death and a beauty he had thought long lost, all inscrutably mixed up as though in a dream—back to the glowing image. Or rather, the vivid, moving picture, for the hologram was a recording.

As he watched, the bluish light of the image reflected in his dark eyes, casting a sheen on his pale skin. For someone watching from outside, his features now seemed calm, softer than the expressions he usually wore. Almost gentle. But it had always been like that; the softness and calm as a stark contrast to the turmoil within.

Only few times did he recall feeling something gentle, _peaceful_ enough to calm the rage and despair, to soften even the dark, haunted look of his deep eyes.

Now, truly, he paid little attention to the thoughts that were less important, and found himself only wondering about the other presence.

About _her._

For she was what the hologram was picturing.

It was a recording almost miraculously saved and kept, something that might have seemed small and insignificant to anyone but him. It was only a short clip, and it showed her—moving lightly and silently, closely along the wall of a corridor in the enormous Starkiller Base, right after escaping her first capture. He thought he could sense her panic, her fear of discovery, her _hope_ —as though they were his own.

She looked up with a start, glancing warily around her, before rounding a corner and disappearing from view.

Her—a scavenger, a Force user of incredible power—her, who was so bright and fleeting and unpredictable.

_Enemy and weakness. Opposite and equal. Obsession— constant, maddening and destroying… haunting, until it tore him fully apart._

_Rey._

Her name. The single word that kept sounding in his thoughts, his dreams, reverberating through his mind and being.

If such obsession was weakness, then he was already falling apart. If such conflict, such doubt was destroying, then he was already gone.

If these feelings were all truly the different names of the _light_ —then he was already lost.

 _Not the light_ , a voice inside him would whisper, _nor the dark; something more, a balance…_

He had changed—he knew this. There was no concealing the truth. Something within him had shifted and twisted yet again, something powerful far beyond his own control.

Partially caused by that strange tether he felt to her, sometimes like a real, palpable thing.

Perhaps there had been no returning from it all along.

Something was before him now, but he knew not whether it was the _end_ , an infinite abyss, or a path yet unseen… No matter what, he realized that the way back had been definitely dissolved, destroyed. The past must be killed; effectively, without mercy.

He had been wondering, desperately, for himself. Was this lacerating turn, this change, something that had existed in him all along?

Or had it all started with something else… Existing apart from him, yet dominating him so completely. Such terrifying loss of sense, of control… Unless it was really a matter not of something, but someone…

The countless questions were there, and he didn’t know the answer.

Maybe these thoughts were also what caused the dreams.

He’d always had dreams; visions, nightmares. They were part of him. Something he thought he’d learned to live with… But these dreams were different. Instead of clear images, he saw visions that were softer, indefinable.

Shadows and lights. Shapes of dim figures, dancing like tendrils of smoke just beyond his reach.

Shadows. Dark and light. That was all there was.

Nothing he thought of gave him any clear answer to those mysteries, forcing their way to his mind during sleep. And yet, instead of feeling madness, frustration, he felt only a sort of curiosity; a _longing_ to know…

He winced and closed his eyes as though in sudden pain. A darkness, flooding him, threatening to consume him—he imagined it as a wave, ready to throw him off his feet, any resistance futile, like fighting something that was infinite… Gathering all his strength, his _will_ , he fought it until it abated.

He gasped and opened his eyes to darkness. The hologram had flickered and died out.

It was the force of a sort that he shouldn’t be able to resist at all—for a long time, he hadn’t. Recently, though, he thought another sort of strength, a barrier had forged itself within him, to shield him from that kind of control.

All this—the dreams, the _change_ —were things that his master should have sensed. That was how it was. His master always knew everything, _sensed_ everything. And so, the Leader must have sensed this madness, this strange obsession… and so _he_ , the apprentice, must have felt the wrath and disappointment of Snoke—the punishment for what could only be seen as weakness…

But it didn’t feel like weakness, some part of him thought. What he had previously thought of as simply that, something so loathsome and pathetic, seemed to have given him another kind of strength.

Had he not believed such a thing to be impossible, he would have thought he was starting to drift _away_. Slowly, away from the master whose will he’d obeyed for so long…

All the thoughts came to him in a flood, and he knew that if he stayed too long, allowed himself to linger… it might tear apart what little of him remained.

Who was he?

 _A murderer._ A monster, a creature in a mask. And he had been a son, but maybe he was no longer that.

_She was no one. She was just a scavenger._

He wondered if he was truly anything—anyone—at all.

Having instinctively reached up to touch the scar that marked his face, he lowered his gloved hand, tightly clenched.

Part of him despised himself.

He was no one. He was ever standing somewhere in the middle—in loyalty, in freedom, in light and darkness. The freedom was an illusion. He had attempted to erase his past, but then how could he still _be_ , when the future seemed so uncertain?

He paced back and forth in the dark room, as an attempt to at least gather some of the thoughts spinning in his head.

He thought he heard the voice of his master speaking to his mind.

_… In the hands of your father, Han Solo… Even you, Master of the Knights of Ren, have never faced such a test…_

_Compassion…_

_It is your_ weakness.

There was _something._ There had to be _more_. If there was anything worth saving…

What was left to save?

If everything was bound to disappear; to fall apart into oblivion, then what was left to hold together?

Another voice, another presence. Quiet, yet powerful—so powerful he thought it might drive him utterly insane.

 _Everything_ , she said.

Her eyes had been dark against her honeyed skin. He remembered the exact shade of her eyes, the texture of her skin; sun kissed, with a spray of freckles. That someone so powerful could, at the same time, appear so gentle...

That any other being could appear so insanely _magnetic._

And then, her mouth, the curve of her lips, slightly parted in strange wonder, as if _he_ were the mystery…

A strange pain tore through his chest.

He thought of another dream, one that haunted him night after night. Although this one was different from the others. Vivid, clear, as though it was a memory rather than something composed by his subconscious mind.

It could have been a memory.

He was standing on a bridge. Another person was before him. The two of them bathed in the fading light of a vanishing sun, falling through an open hatch, infinities above. Away from the glow was only deafening silence, darkness.

The other person was standing so close.

And the words that had escaped his lips, seared with pain, finely laced with a bitter irony—that in this, his moment of triumph and fulfillment, he was falling ever so fully apart.

_I am being torn apart. And I want—I want to be free of this pain… I know what I have to do, but I don’t know if I have the strength to do it._

_Will you help me?_

The reply, gentle and without the faintest note of hesitation. _Yes. Anything._

The other moved closer. The sun disappeared; the darkness became complete. And darkness consumed him, too—the lightsaber ignited in his hands, penetrating the other’s chest.

The person’s gaze was fixed on his, and he held it, as though in a haze. But it wasn’t the dying gaze of Han Solo, his father. No—dying here, at his hands, standing close in what could have been an embrace, was Rey.

There was always the last thing he saw, the last thing he felt; her eyes, dark and brilliant, were locked on his—and as the last thing before her body fell into the abyss; her hand, lightly touching his face, leaving an untraceable mark that would stain his soul forever.

Then she fell. And the wave came, swallowing everything, leaving only dead emptiness behind.

There was a cry, followed by the sounds of explosions. There was a scream of shock, grief, but those sounds were strangely muffled and faraway… A sudden pain exploding in his side, but it was nothing, _nothing_ , compared with the loss—unfathomable loss, like a gaping hole in his very center, as though something was missing that could never, never be replaced…

In this moment, he would wake up with a start, sweat-drenched and panting as if he couldn’t breathe in enough life from the air, ringing shock and inexplicable loss consuming him…

Even now, thinking about that feeling of loss, he _trembled_ , breath catching in his throat.

 _Pathetic_ , a voice whispered inside him. _Weak_. But that voice had become still fainter, lost among several others.

He simply didn’t _understand._

It was frustrating, terrifying, _shattering_ —all those feelings in a confusing maelstrom, stirring inside him…

It must be the _light_ , somehow; always luring, always calling his name. Such feelings that his master would have called weakness, compassion… But in the dark of night, and in this moment too, he could care about none of those things.

For if there was something he knew, when he sat up awake with staggering breath and whirling thoughts, it was that the feeling of losing _her_ —even if just in this dream, this nightmare, this vision—was something more painful than anything he had felt before. A connection somehow, impossibly, appearing to burn brighter than anything else.

_By the stars…_

_Who am I? What have I become?_

He looked down at the hologram in his hand, which had flickered back to life with a glow of brightest blue. He watched the moving image that was her, as if it could answer all his questions.

_What have you made me, bright one?_

___________________

There was a whispering sound as the automatic door slid open, and the light from the corridor streamed in. Then clattering footsteps sounded as someone entered.

As the hologram faded yet again, Kylo Ren turned slowly around to face the intruder. He didn’t feel remotely surprised to see Armitage Hux—seamless uniform and polished boots in place, brows arched, thin mouth twisted in a sneer.

Had Hux seen the hologram before it disappeared, noticed what it pictured? He found he hardly cared. This was no _person_ whose opinion he cared about—simply another insignificant official of the First Order, although an excessively powerful one.

“Hiding away in the dark…” the general said. “How come the great Master Ren is not officially present, in our moment of triumph?”

He wanted to snarl at the other how foolish it all was. It was grandeur without true meaning, a claim of sovereignty that hadn’t nearly been realized. Nothing was yet as systemized, as worthy of the title ‘empire’ as all these people kept fooling themselves to believe. To gather hundreds of people, self-absorbed sycophants who dreaded thinking and acting for themselves, at an event which revolved truly just around empty talk, some meaningless gesture meant for them to feel safe in their belief.

Didn’t they all realize the stupidity of it? It was emptiness, cleared of progress. There were other means of intimidation, suppression—he knew this from personal experience. Once, at the time when the darkness had seemed all-encompassing, he himself would have taken part in those things, the terror, the merciless enforcement of _progress_ —but nothing was even close to what it had been before…

“I expect your claim of sovereignty went well enough without my attendance,” he said quietly. “After all, it was simply words.”

He didn’t ask how the general had known about his whereabouts. He didn’t wish to know. It hardly mattered now.

“’Claim’?” the other man exclaimed. “An announcement! The official statement of our might as an empire; the greatest step taken since the demonstration of the Starkiller!”

“But this _Second Empire_ has not yet achieved full domination,” Kylo Ren said, poorly concealed irritation lacing his words. “What of the fighters for the growing organization still demonstrating against the First Order’s rule? What of all the other, smaller forces that continuously fight to oppose it?” _Fools—do they not realize nothing is yet certain?_

Hux answered with a raised brow, as if speaking of a matter that he hardly saw any interest in. “You speak of Leia Organa’s Resistance—?”

_The Resistance. Leia. Senator, princess, leader… sister, wife—mother…_

The only sign of his discomfort remained the tightly clenched hands at his sides.

He could feel fury rising up in him—the rage, the unleashing of a temper that was so often beyond his control. That even this insignificant person could cause that fury to ignite was yet another sign of his devastation, how he was beginning to lose everything he thought he had…

_Change._

“—its reputation far exceeds its numbers—its capabilities,” the general continued, unwavering. “Their successful assault on the main station was due to our failure, rather than their triumph… but then there is, of course, the Jedi,” he then added. “Skywalker… and his rumored new _apprentice_.”

 _He must be braver than I assumed_. Given that the general was still standing there, in the same place, instead of swiftly retreating as far away as he could—as most probably would have done.

But even Hux had grown more arrogant towards him, as though even he _sensed_ the way he was falling apart…

“I heard of the… encounter,” the general said insistently, eyes glinting with something like taunt. “Members of your order dueled, against Skywalker and the girl, did they not? Fought, and failed to retrieve them.”

He didn’t know how the general would possess such information. Instead he memorized, vividly, the disappointment and wrath of their master which had fallen over the Knights of Ren, after they had attempted to defeat the Jedi and ultimately failed. It _had_ been a shocking failure—the escape… the loss of Izha Ren…

Such inconvenience and waste. So many unforeseen complications.

Five had been sent out, only four had returned, some severely wounded. And so, the nine had become suddenly eight… And Skywalker had escaped—so had she.

It had been unforeseen; a vital flaw in the plan. But then, they had been given strict orders to do as little _damage_ to the two wanted Jedi as possible. And the Knights of Ren were warriors above everything. They had not been trained to show mercy.

It was the first crucial mission in a long time that he, Master of the Knights, had not been part of.

And even now, he found himself hopelessly wondering.

She escaped; she got away after the fight…

Had she been hurt? Had she been _afraid_?

But she was always so strong…

Somehow, the thought of her facing his own Knights was dark—terrifying. She’d had to fight against them, against the dark side…

It might as well have been against _him_.

Where did he even stand? Where was his loyalty in all this? The answer should have been simple, straightforward. Everything that had meant reason, some illusion of sense and purpose had now changed, obscured or vanished completely—and he did not know the way out.

Had he been reluctant, _afraid_ , to realize some part of the truth?

The general still stood by the door, as if waiting for something—an answer, or any reaction at all.

Kylo Ren felt the fury growing, white-hot and blazing inside him. The fury which had no _reason_ , no clear source, but simply rose in him, wildly and uncontrollably—a massive force, waiting to explode and collide against whatever stood in its way…

 _Leave_ , he thought. _Just leave me alone…_

“The Supreme Leader has requested to see you,” offered Hux finally.

“Why?” he said, without thinking. It had been a long time since his master had called upon him alone. Now he wondered the reason—

“Should I be assumed to know the specific reasons for a master to meet with his apprentice, Ren?” the general said with obvious distaste.

But Snoke had other ways of contacting him—he hardly needed another to send the message, especially not a person such as Hux. Could the reason be his master’s wrath—suspicion, a growing mistrust between the master and the apprentice?

A test—to see whether he was still unwavering in his loyalty, enough to answer his master’s summons without question. As it ought to be.

And then he suddenly knew something else.

He wasn’t going to contact his master. He wasn’t even going to stay.

It was a quiet, simple realization. For a moment, his mind had become silent. _Clear._

With no other thought than the strange new determination, he strode for the exit. But the general, infuriatingly and daringly, stood in the way.

Kylo Ren felt the anger inside him, still kindling—but for the first time he could remember, it was cold. Controlled.

“Get out of my way,” he said, almost surprised by the calm in his voice.

With a look of deepest contempt, the general moved aside, allowing for him to proceed. He was almost out of the room when Hux spoke one last time:

“Ah, Ren. I shall enjoy witnessing your fall.”

Without stopping, without casting a single glance back at the other, Kylo answered, “And when I reach the very bottom, I’ll see you in Hell.”

__________________

He walked fast through the many corridors, his dark cloak whispering against the floor as he went. In his mind was that strange sudden determination, blazing in him not as the fever of uncontrollable rage, but instead a bright clarity. In this moment he wished nothing more than to leave this place, to go far away… _Where_ , he did not know.

It was like a voice. Fleeting as the wind, a whisper, an echo… Not just whispers but emotions too, mirroring so many of his own. He found himself wishing to follow that voice, to comfort its strange loneliness; to seek what his every instinct told him to find…

_Obsession._

His master’s voice once more filled his mind, veiled his thoughts and senses as it spoke to him, accusingly.

_It appears that a reminder is in order… And I will show you the dark side._

_Compassion._

Weakness.

And the darkness came, rising over him in a wave threatening to overwhelm and consume him—together, they were a presence of crushing force, a voice that willed him not to resist but to obey and surrender—

And for the first time that he could remember, he did not give in to the voice, did not surrender to his master’s control, but instead silenced it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben Solo, everyone. Oh, how I've missed writing his PoV - endless gratitude to everyone who has kept up with me and this story in all its hugeness and slow burn-ness.
> 
> First of all... TLJ is an incredible, beautiful masterpiece. It made things come true that I'd barely dared to hope for. It healed me and absolutely broke my heart.  
> All the characters' development in this movie is incredible, perhaps Ben's most of all (Adam's acting once more blows me away). Of course, this will inevitably change some of the ways I think of this character- but as for the plot and development of this story, I intend to keep it the way I initially planned it and just let the story flow from there...
> 
> Merry belated Christmas/happy holidays to you all- I hope it's been a wonderful time. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your continued support and love, it means the world to me.
> 
> And if you have IG or Tumblr, please come say hi, I'd love to talk to you! My user is starlightsquadron on both sites. :)


	35. The Name of the Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “At times when my mother was sadder, she would tell us about the secrecy, the constant doubt she felt during that time of her life. When she was having one of her happier, lighter days, she would try to explain _that_ feeling to me. That the love she felt for him made her feel it was all worth it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deeply apologize for this late update. A lot of things has been going on here at the beginning of the new year. However, despite these breaks in between chapters, please know that this story is still a great priority to me.
> 
> This is mostly an intermezzo chapter of a sort - our beloved Reylo will be right back in the next chapter, I promise! However some things in this story needed to be made clear before it felt fitting to move on with that part of the story.

The little townhouse was so sparingly lit that most of its deepest corners lay in complete darkness. Luke was led by the woman down a narrow hallway, which widened into what seemed to be the house’s only room. It was a small and sparsely furnished, with a tiny make-shift kitchen along the opposite wall. Placed in the center was a small table. Although the house appeared only to have one inhabitant, two low stools were placed on either side.

She gestured for Luke to sit down one of them. As he did so and drew back the hood of his cloak, she went to the kitchen table to fetch two bottles of some refreshment, before placing herself on the other stool.

She folded her hands, watching him with an unwavering intensity. He took a small sip of his drink and said nothing.

The silence in the room was deep—yet it wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable as silences can be, and Luke didn’t think it wise to speak too soon.

Several minutes ticked by. Their faces were lit up by the single light in the room—a soft orange glow that reminded him of evenings and sunsets. For the constancy of her gaze, it didn’t feel pressing or in any way unnerving.

Then, at last, he said, “You appear to know who I am. And though I’m familiar with your name, that is all I know of you.”

Hetta Kenobi remained quiet for a moment longer, then answered simply, “You’re Luke Skywalker—the Jedi Master, the hero who became a legend. Your name has become known by most.”

He placed the bottle on the table and folded his hands. “I have come because there are questions that I need answered. Answers which I believe you might give me.”

He waited for her to react, but she simply sat there, calmly, waiting for him to continue. Finally, he met her direct gaze once more.

“I wanted to know,” he said, “what you know of Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

She raised her brows, but he didn’t know if her expression was one of surprise, or simply curiosity.

“Well, of course I know him,” she said at last. “He is my father.”

A strange sensation went through Luke at the revelation. It was an acknowledgement, a stunning, sudden change, and yet… he felt as though he’d already known. Maybe he’d known the truth the moment he heard the name spoken in Anchorhead. Perhaps, already before that, had he been aware that there must be something, or someone, left.

That his mentor and protector; the one who had watched over him, the man who had first taught him about the Force—his father’s best friend, master as well as brother—had not been the last Kenobi.

Obi-Wan’s daughter now watched him, waiting, a hesitant look in her dark eyes. After a moment she continued:

“I’ve sometimes wondered when you would come here, Master Jedi,” she said. “I never knew much about my father, besides from what I could learn from others. I know that he was a respected member of the Jedi Council, during the Order’s final days of glory. I know that he served as a Jedi general during the Clone Wars. How he survived the annihilation of the Jedi at the rise of the Empire. How he retreated and went into hiding in this faraway corner of the galaxy—to watch over one of the last Skywalkers,” she added slowly. “The galaxy’s last hope.

“My father seems to have been entangled with the Skywalker family most of his life,” she suddenly said, her gaze finally moving. “A connection that gave him joys and overwhelming sorrows both. It gave him friendship, purpose—and also caused his downfall.”

She had spoken all this in a low, plain voice. To any less attentive listener, the emotion that laced her words would have been inaudible.

“You speak of my father?” Luke said. 

She looked up, eyes glinting in the dim light.

“Anakin Skywalker, the Jedi who turned, betrayed his order and ultimately caused my father’s death,” she said. “But I also speak of you—his best friend’s son. He helped you, even after he had become one with the Force. He guided you to your final victory.”

Luke felt a pang of emotion in his chest by the talk of his old mentor. Always had he been close, even when Luke himself had not been aware of it, had hardly known him as anyone but the kindly old man who lived somewhere beyond the dunes.

Obi-Wan Kenobi, whom he owed so much.

It was getting late. Luke could sense in his bones that the light outside was growing softer, calmer, as the afternoon changed to evening—the constant rhythm of day and night he used to live by.

Hetta’s eyes shifted restlessly to different places in the room, as a way to avoid his gaze. Then, at last, spoken in a quiet, steady voice, the words began flowing from her lips.

“My mother met Obi-Wan Kenobi when she was twenty-nine years old. Her name was Naïra. She was a native woman who had lived her whole life in a small village at the outskirts of the Dune Sea. She was always a quiet person, but kind to everyone who knew her. She was very beautiful.

“She came to meet Obi-Wan in the mornings, when she walked across the wastelands to reach the village’s power generators. She did that every morning, walked those few miles through the desert to activate the generators that generated power to the whole village. Obi-Wan lived at one of the tall ridges, and she happened to walk by the path that passed his home. Then, of course, she knew him only from what other people said about him, people who didn’t know him. As the foreign stranger named Ben Kenobi, who hardly sought contact to any other beings; who lived just far enough away that most people privately thought it best and easiest that it stayed that way. Many of the people in my mother’s village would talk about the strangeness of Kenobi; how he was assumed “odd”, how no one seemed to know anything about his past.”

She looked up again, but this time her eyes seemed far away.

“He was always kind to her. From the moment he first met her, and talked to her during one of her early morning walks. He offered her water when the suns shone mercilessly, and as they began to talk to each other more, he asked about her and her life. He was always interested in _her_ , in a way that she’d never experienced before, growing up in that village.

“She concluded that the villagers’ gossip and the rumours must come from simple ignorance. A mystery and an ignorance that she no longer shared. For she had begun to linger when she came to that particular place on her way, hoping for him to be there. They soon got to know each other well—at that time, she felt that he was the one person she knew best, understood best, despite having known him for a short time only.

“Over that time, they fell in love. My mother was happy then—I know she was. I know that Ben—that Obi-Wan loved her dearly. It didn’t take long before he told her the truth. He told her his real name—he told her that he was one of the only Jedi left alive in the galaxy. That he possessed the power to wield the Force that people across the galaxy had already begun to think of as a myth—the Jedi a fairytale of heroes. And Naïra finally understood the reason why he was living in hiding, why he had chosen such a life of solitude and loneliness. Above all, my mother understood that his secret must be kept with her and those few others who knew. He even told her some of the reason why he had chosen this planet of all; Tatooine, a shabby Outer Rim world which, after the rise of the Empire, had become even more backwater than it was before.

“I don’t think he ever told her more than parts of that truth. He never spoke clearly of the reason why he was watching over that specific young farmer’s boy, what made that boy so special. Some of those circumstances were, after all, only known to a handful of people in the galaxy at that time.”

She cast a quick glance at Luke, who thought, _For me. Obi-Wan stayed for me; to watch over his best friend’s child._

And while many people had come to know and fear Darth Vader, only a handful at that time would have known that he had once been Anakin Skywalker. Fewer still that he had been the father of two children—as such, the attempt of keeping those two a secret to even the fallen Jedi himself had succeeded.

It was only many years later—more than two decades after the end of the Civil War—that those secrets would be revealed to the galaxy at large, causing dark rumours about the Skywalker family to be shared by anyone who cared. Which had been a lot, Luke thought bitterly. It had, after all, been a time when a scandal of such magnitude would become a topic of real discussion and speculation throughout systems, simply because people hadn’t thought they had other reasons to worry.

There was a brief pause before Hetta said, “I don’t know exactly how much time passed then, for my mother never told us much more than the things we begged her to tell. It could have been several cycles, during which they met as often as they could. At times when my mother was sorrowful, she would tell us about the secrecy, the constant doubt she felt during that time of her life. When she was having one of her happier, lighter days, she would try to explain _that_ feeling to me. That the love she felt for him made her feel it was all worth it.

“But then Naïra’s family moved away, and she decided to leave as well—to leave the area and the village she’d always known, and to leave behind the man she loved. Maybe she didn’t see any other way. I think the realization of all their impossible differences, along with the need of keeping the relationship a secret, had perhaps become too much for her. But those were only some of the reasons for her wanting to leave. My mother had become pregnant.”

Again, she made a small pause before continuing. At this point it seemed as though she’d nearly forgotten Luke was there, lost in the memories of a person so close to her.

“However deep her love was for the father of the child, she immediately did what she meant was necessary to keep the child away from him. Naïra had accepted the truth of Obi-Wan’s past; had believed in what he was, had protected him by keeping his secrets. However much she loved him, she wanted to keep her unborn child safe, more than anything. She could only try to imagine how grave danger the child of Obi-Wan Kenobi would be in, if the Empire became aware of their existence. How exposed they would both become. So she left, without warning, travelled to another place on the other side of the planet—without telling Obi-Wan about her intentions, without even telling him about the child.

“My mother always had sad eyes, mostly when she thought no one was looking her way. Though the decision of leaving for good was hers alone—and I don’t think she ever believed there’d been any other choice—I think she left some piece of herself behind when she left him. Something that could never be replaced, even if she’d wished it.”

“Love—true and unconditional love—is a beautiful thing which requires a person to surrender their heart and soul; to trust, and to love wholly,” said Luke softly.

“Something that is constant,” she whispered. “Never to fade.”

Luke didn’t know how much time had passed by now. He thought briefly about R2-D2, still waiting at the X-wing outside the town. He shook off his growing worry with a faint smile. That astromech had been through—and made it through—more dangerous things than most organic beings could claim to have experienced.

“Naïra gave birth shortly after,” Hetta suddenly continued, her voice faint. “Twins—a boy and a girl. My brother, Wyrnen, and I.”

She swallowed. “For all that I remember, from the very moment we entered this world, we were raised with great love. Our mother always made sure to show us how much we were loved. And that was all we needed. We couldn’t have had it any better, had we had two parents. Still, I don’t think she never managed to forget the loss of him, however hard she tried. She was determined never to have to flee like that again—above all, she never wanted to have to leave behind the people she loved most dearly… As she had, that one time of her life.”

As this part of her story was finished, Hetta leaned back, seemingly more relaxed than she had been that whole time.

Although Luke had been listening closely, paying quiet attention to her every word, it was as if his mind only now could comprehend all that it meant. All the things it might change—and not.

Obi-Wan had had children. He had loved someone, here on this planet, only to have her torn away from him again. How it must have hurt him, after everything.

And she had given birth to twins. Just like Anakin, Obi-Wan had been the father of twins—a boy and a girl.

Hetta said, “I don’t know exactly how or when he became aware that he was the father of two children, but one day, when my brother and I were eight years old, he stood at our doorstep.

“My mother told us to go outside while she made the stranger go away. And Obi-Wan went, as Naïra told him to, almost immediately. He must have understood her; however difficult it must have been to accept. Understood her wish to keep us safe, in the way she thought best. And so, he left, and this time it was for good. We never saw him again. The only glimpse I ever got of my father was that of a cloaked stranger standing in our doorway.”

Her sharp gaze met his, and she fell silent once more.

“Do you wish it had been any different?” Luke said.

Her voice was plain when she answered, “I understood my mother then. I still do. She wanted to keep us safe and away from danger at any price. Yet, still—don’t we all want to know our fathers?”

_Yes_ , he thought.

_We probably do._

He thought of all these new truths, all these stories that he had never known.

_You loved. You had two children whom you were forbidden to see. You must have grieved that loss so terribly._

_Why did you never tell me?_

When Obi-Wan had lived, and even in the years after he’d become one with the Force, they had talked about Luke. Always about what _Luke_ needed to learn, what he must do—the burden he must carry because no one else could.

Now, before him, sat Obi-Wan’s daughter and told him about a side of the Jedi Master that he had hardly ever wondered if existed.

And even now, Luke had to ask himself why it felt like such a shock that Obi-Wan Kenobi had lived, and loved, and felt that precise sort of loss and grief like any other being.

“Naïra raised you and your brother here, on Tatooine, then,” he said.

Hetta nodded. “Yes. Tatooine was my only home when I was a child, as it still is today. We had a simple life—sometimes I would think it rather monotone—but we were safe. It was peaceful, I think—as easy a life as you can have on a planet like this; as free a life as you can live under the oppression of a galactic government that won’t hesitate to use means of tyranny, especially on a world like this.

“Wyrnen and I were always close—we grew up as each other’s best friends. He was also my only true friend, for we used to live in an area with few other settlements. I think my mother did it on purpose.

“I believe… more than anything, she wanted to keep us safe from the Force—or rather, our possible Force-sensitivity,” she said softly. “She always kept silent that the father of her children had been a Jedi. Naturally, she realized how exposed such knowledge would make Wyrnen and I, in a galaxy where common belief stated the Jedi were mere legends. Where rumours spoke that if the Jedi _had_ ever existed, the Emperor had long since hunted them down and killed them—which was obviously closest to the truth. Naïra had learned to use Obi-Wan’s story as an example—how the ability to use the Force had, in the end, taken away everything he’d lived for. Of course, that wasn’t wholly true, either—he’d probably lived for the Jedi Order itself more than anything—but my mother had become narrow-minded when it came to such things. She saw only that the Force, and the connection to the Jedi, were a constant threat to our family.

“And then Naïra… My brother and I were sixteen when she died.”

Her voice faltered, and she sat for a moment staring blankly into the wall—her grief was so sudden, so present, and Luke could feel her loss like a palpable thing.

“She was weakened,” Hetta said—her voice quiet but steady. “Not truly ill, but her health was never quite well. I think she was unfit for the simple, crude life in that harsh climate. At one point, she stopped eating. Then one day she refused to rise from her bed. She would lie there, smiling, telling us not to worry about her anymore, to be strong. She waited for death, patiently preparing herself for its arrival. I think that, in all those years, Wyrnen and I were her only true reason to stay. She had lost some piece of herself. She remained for our sakes, to take care of us, to protect us with everything she could. But at that time, we had both grown up. We were sixteen, and able to take care of ourselves. And with that, Naïra believed her only reason of staying, the thing that tied her to the world, had disappeared. That there was no longer any need for her.

“It was a quiet funeral. Wyrnen and I were the only ones there to say farewell. I suppose such final goodbyes are always hard. That’s how it’s meant to be, isn’t it?” she whispered. “You’ve got to feel the pain. To know that you exist.

“But we remained. We stayed there, the place we’d known all our lives. We took care of our home, and each other.”

She sighed, then, but there was a soft smile on her face.

“Tell me about your brother,” Luke said gently.

Still with that same calmness, she said, “Naïra and Wyrnen were the only people I ever knew well enough to love. They were my only family. I always loved my brother dearly. After my mother’s death, when I had only him left, our bond grew perhaps even stronger, as we had to survive only with the help of each other. Our life was soon as peaceful as it could be, as it had been before our mother passed away.

“We both knew it couldn’t stay that way forever. However much we looked and seemed alike, our personalities were very different. I was happy with the simple, even monotone life—I felt comfortable staying where I was, in the place that I knew best. Although maybe it was more that the thought of leaving frightened me. Wyrnen was different. He wanted to _know_ more—he wanted to travel across the galaxy and see the planets and the life that lay beyond. He wanted to see everything.

“He always talked about the stars. He imagined, and he would tell me about those dreams. He told about the countless species of countless worlds—about the vastness of a galaxy we had yet to discover with our own eyes… About flying in the dark among the stars, to feel that overwhelming infinity.

“He left when we were twenty-five. When the passiveness of it all had become too much. I had no real taste for adventure—probably I was a bit narrow-minded,” she said with a smile. “Sure, the galaxy was unfathomable, and the skies were vast and endless. But I stayed behind, thought that someone at least had to remain. I’d always rather liked being alone.

“He sent me holos from the places he visited on his travels. He was witnessing a galaxy in change; a time where everything was stirring and coming back into place after having been scattered to the winds. The Empire had fallen; the New Republic was arisen. A new time was about to commence. The whole galaxy was turning into something new and bright, something that many of our generation had never witnessed, and everywhere it was to be seen and felt.

“Wyrnen’s travels eventually brought him to Cerea—a world which he loved for its beautiful nature and serene people. Mostly, I think he was captivated by Cerea’s many forests; wide, azure oceans… Such natural wonders as you would never find on Tatooine. It was on Cerea that Wyrnen found the person who would later become his wife. She was solemn, calm and wise; tall and willowy, with beautiful eyes and the darkest raven hair. Her name was Valya Qirin.

“Although they remained on Cerea, her home world, and created a life for themselves there, they often went out travelling to the most unlikely and faraway places. Together, they were two souls who wanted rather to drift endlessly about, unbound by any ties, than to settle somewhere definitely. To Valya, she told me nothing else mattered more if she could only feel the light of the stars.

“But they often found a way to come by Tatooine on their journeys—to visit me at our old home. As circumstances would allow, we spent time together, as a family. I saw Wyrnen again; I came to know the woman whom my brother loved beyond anything. And some time later, I became one of the first people to see their child, their first born.

“It was a girl, and she was dark-eyed and beautiful, just like Naïra…”

Her voice faltered.

“And her name?” Luke asked softly.

Hetta’s eyes were fixed on his, lit up by a rare light. That vivid sparkle which somehow felt so strangely familiar.

“Their daughter was what truly brought the light into my brother’s life,” she said. “And so, they named her after that light… after the sunrise she carried within.” Her eyes were brilliant, her voice softened until it was but a whisper. “But you know her, Luke Skywalker, don’t you? You know the name.”

“Rey.”

He said it without hesitation, and also, he realized, without doubt. It was that little glimpse of truth after which he had sought; what some part of his mind had wondered, suspected all the while Hetta was telling the story. Of Obi-Wan and Naïra; of herself and her brother and Tatooine. Of Wyrnen Kenobi and Valya Qirin, and Cerea. Of her brother’s little daughter, her niece.

Rey.

What he had somehow known from the moment his eyes met Hetta’s. Those eyes, that were somehow dark and bright at the same time. Rey’s eyes.

All disparate pieces, slowly, suddenly falling into place.

“I never got to really know his daughter,” said Hetta. “Our meetings were infrequent, and the time was so short. Still, I recognized her on those posters; I thought I _knew_ her when people started whispering about her. That it was truly _her_ —Rey—who was training in the Force; who was out there in the galaxy, alive.” _Not recognition by sight,_ Luke thought; _a connection, a feeling, a sense._ “All this time… she was there. Even thought she was so young when she was left…”

Luke’s voice was matter-of-fact. “When they died.”

“I heard that they had been driven away,” she said. Tears streamed down her face, but her voice was suddenly hard. “Heard at first only that they’d gone. You must understand that they encountered many people on their journeys, people of all sorts, including some whose grasp you’d rather stay far out of. They made contacts, deals, connections; investments, arrangements of protection. All things that could prove highly beneficial in the long run. I had warned them of the risk, of the day those deals would backfire on them in ways I didn’t dare imagine. Such things are known to a person who spends her entire life on Tatooine.

“Even in a galaxy at peace, with a government which ever strived to maintain control with the crimes happening in the shadows, that part of the galaxy would always be there. Hidden from most common people, but always present somewhere. And the day I feared, which they’d probably always dreaded themselves, came faster than any of them could have imagined.

“I saw my brother for the last time when he came to my home, our home, in the middle of the night. He was alone—which meant that I never got to see my brother’s wife, to see their daughter, before… He told me that he had to go again soon, that they had to leave. They had fled from Cerea, from the home they had there. He wept and told me he was sorry. They were waiting for him; Valya and Rey—whatever happened, he said, he simply wished for his daughter to be safe. That she wouldn’t have to suffer from his grave, foolish mistakes. He never told me who was hunting them; never told me more about the reason that what I could guess for myself. Probably to protect us all. He had only wanted to get back to Tatooine this last time, to see me. To say goodbye, in case the worst happened.”

She rose and turned away from him as she spoke, bracing a hand against the wall. He saw now that she was hiding her face with her other hand. He felt her emotions, her grief and loss like a crushing weight, a hollow emptiness in his center.

She let her hand fall away, to reveal eyes that were rimmed with red. “It was the last I ever saw of any of them. I knew they had to be dead—killed by whomever had so much hostility toward them that they’d pursued them to their death. I always assumed that it had doomed them all—that little Rey had shared her parents’ fate. That they were all gone, all those years ago, after Wyrnen had told me goodbye. I closed myself off and tried to live with that grief—I never suspected that she, at least, might have somehow survived.

“It was only when certain brave people started whispering. Only when the actual rumours spread—that Luke Skywalker had returned to the galaxy at large, that there was perhaps another Jedi who would help save the galaxy from its misery. A no one, they said. No one had heard about her. A young girl from an inconsequential world, whom the First Order was apparently determined to eliminate. Whom some people, already now, had named as a hope. I listened, eventually managing to patch some truth together. I speculated, hoped—wildly at first, not truly daring to believe.”

She had turned once again so she was facing him, dark eyes shining. But she was smiling—a bright smile; an expression of hope. “It was only then I realized—perhaps my brother’s last wish had come true, after all.”

____________________

The day was truly at its end.

Luke stood a few strides away from the X-wing, the shape of the starfighter silhouetted against a sky aflame. Nuances of red and deepest orange, fading into cool purple. In the dim light, everything was soft—from the blurred lines of the sand dunes rising in the distance, to the dark outlines of the town beneath. A calm fire.

Beeps came from atop the starfighter; a steady sound, more for R2-D2 to make aware of his presence. The sort of comfort a droid could offer—and Luke smiled, grateful.

The thoughts spun and swarmed inside his head. Yet the sudden uproar, the loudness of the thoughts and the doubt in his mind had abated. Quietened into something that was close, constantly present, yet something that could be calmed and, in a sense, saved for later.

After all, whatever was to come now would eventually arrive and show by itself. All of it, when the time was right.

He felt only a faint rustle of something, like a calm breeze, before it materialized beside him—he didn’t move or turn around as he acknowledged the other presence.

“Obi-Wan.”

He could sense the silhouette of energy and light standing there in the silence; the faded image that was the only physical remnants of what had once been the body of a living being. Then, at last, Luke turned around to face him. His mentor, protector. His father’s best friend.

The aged face was calm, sincere; watching him with the quiet patience that had been so characteristic for the man when he was still alive. Yet as the gaze weighed on him, perhaps waiting for him to speak first, he thought there was a brilliance in those eyes. Dampness, from unshed tears. Some old sorrow that had been suppressed, now finally to be let free.

“You knew?” said Luke simply.

The other man hesitated, then nodded.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “I knew that one of my children had had a child of his own. And yes—I also knew that she remained alive. That she had survived. That she was still surviving and growing more powerful.”

Obi-Wan stepped forward until he stood, silently, beside Luke. They were standing at the edge of the hill that rose above Anchorhead, looking into the eternity of the burning sky above.

The twin suns were still blazing, midway on their descent. Above their heads, higher and higher where it was darkest, stars were materializing as small specks of light in the sky.

Luke said no more, but remained calm, his silence an invitation for the other to continue. To explain to him the truths that had been kept in darkness and give it all some sense of meaning.

Obi-Wan Kenobi hesitated for a moment, the silence growing, and then he told.

“I always watched over them. Wyrnen and Hetta. Our children. I never met them, never talked to them during that time. But always, I watched from the distance. Just to make sure they were safe. Just what little was necessary to keep them safe.

“You must understand—I loved Naïra very much. She represented all the things I had never truly allowed myself to know; all the things I thought I would never know. So the last thing, the least I could do was to do as she wished. To stay away.”

Luke watched as silvery, transparent tears began running down the other man’s face.

“But it is hard,” Obi-Wan said, “for a person not to know his only children at all.”

He paused for a moment before saying, “I learned when she died. I told myself that now, when Wyrnen and Hetta had grown older, when they now had to manage on their own, I might get the chance to finally know them both.

“I was selfish, Luke. I almost didn’t resist the urge get to know my children. I was almost unable to look past my own, deepest wishes. But fate had a peculiar way of playing in then—for it didn’t take long then for a certain hologram to reach me, via you. Instead, I dragged you with me on a presumed trip to Alderaan; a last, somewhat frantic hope that I might still be of use, that I might still make a difference for the fate of the galaxy. We both know how that journey ended for me. I came to encounter your father, the fallen apprentice, whom I had failed to save long ago. Darth Vader destroyed my mortal body.

“In the years after, I continued to watch over them,” Obi-Wan said. “I never appeared to them, never attempted to make contact with them as I did with you. I suppose I could have… And maybe all would have been different if I had. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything.

“I knew when my son left, five years after the war ended. I learned that he travelled to Cerea, that he fell in love there. I knew when their child was born, eleven years after the end of the war. Rey.

“I also sensed it when their family became endangered—they were being hunted, pursued by someone or something determined enough to chase them across the galaxy… I never knew why, or who they were. But they were either relentless, or powerful enough that Wyrnen saw no other way.

“I wanted to talk to him; whether to offer him help or guidance… or simply to have a sense of doing _something_. In this state, I knew there wasn’t much I could do. Yet perhaps I saw it again as another opportunity; a chance of making things the way they should have been, without my interference. Maybe I should have known better. But nevertheless, I never got the chance to contact my son—before I could attempt it, he contacted me.

“Regardless of his mother’s wishes, he must have sought knowledge of me. Somehow, he must have learned enough about Obi-Wan Kenobi that he knew who his father had been—what I had been. I had always felt the Force shining within them. Strong with him; a crackling well of an energy whose nature he never truly learned or understood. No one had been there to teach him. Dimmer with her, as a result of life-long suppression, even denial. But the Force will always be there, waiting, protecting or guiding. Sometimes it requires an awakening. And Wyrnen’s powers awoke—in that last moment, as the last way out. He summoned me, his father, and I answered his call. For the first time in my existence I spoke directly to my son. There was so much to be talked about, but never had time been so short. He felt shame. So much regret—for all the mistakes he felt he had made. For leaving his twin sister behind. For never getting to know me. For the lives of his wife and daughter that had now become endangered. But he also had a resolution. Not all the lives of the ones he loved would end because of him. He did not intend to let his daughter die from his failure. And he had a plan.”

So late did Luke realize that the old man’s voice shook, that the phantom tears of his transparent figure were now flowing freely. But there was no hesitation. Here, at last spoken out from where it had been kept hidden, suppressed for so long, was the truth.

“Whatever was following them would come after _him_ , rather than his family,” Obi-Wan said. “It was too late for Valya, as they had long since marked her, his wife to be as much of a target as him. She would stay with him throughout—from what I knew of her, no matter what happened she would remain and fight, fiercely, for life. To whatever end.

“With Rey, it was different. She was only a little girl—as long as she was kept away from the danger that her parents attracted, she ought to be safe. They had no interest, no thought for a mere child. She was so young, and yet I think she realized more than one would have thought possible for a child her age.

“She never cried,” he said. “She never seemed afraid. Not when her parents brought her to a new place; a planet that looked like Tatooine with its dry deserts, but was far, far away from everything she had known.

“They would come back. They would return for their daughter as soon as they could; as soon as their mere presence wouldn’t endanger her life. I witnessed Wyrnen swear to himself that should there ever be a chance to return, a chance of rebuilding a life, it should go to her. His daughter. Their love for their daughter was strong enough that they would leave her, and thus keep her protected by drawing their pursuers away from her. It was because of that love that my son asked for my guidance, so that he could forge a barrier in her mind. A veil of oblivion—a barrier that would allow her only to remember her name; that would hide from her all memories of what her life had been before. Her parents, her childhood, her home planet. She would then only remember whatever would come after—temporarily, until someone, or something, would enter her mind again and break down the barrier. Once they were able to return for her.

“It was love that made them leave her behind, alone on Jakku where she had no one and nothing that she knew.”

“But they never returned,” Luke said softly. All which now seemed so much clearer… all these pieces now coming together.

Obi-Wan paused before he said, “No. They disappeared after leaving their daughter. Whomever had hunted them so relentlessly and wanted their lives so badly finally got them. I never knew who or what they were—those hunters. Killers.”

And so, the barrier would never have been removed, the suppressed memories never freed. And the girl would have lived on, under a veil of ignorance. Abandoned by her family, any clear memories of whom would have been taken away.

Only a name to carry with her.

_I can’t remember my parents_ , she had told him once when he’d asked. _I’ve tried—tried to remember their faces, and why they left. But there’s just… Nothing. A mist. Things hidden in shadows. Everything is unclear. Isn’t that strange?_

“You said about this… barrier,” said Luke. “That it could be forced to break by an attack or intrusion into her mind.”

Obi-Wan nodded slowly, wholly the Jedi instructor. “Should she encounter a powerful Force user, who would enter her mind, the barrier could weaken or crack. For herself, or another, to eventually make it fully disappear.”

Luke said no more, but speculations were nevertheless forming in his mind.

“You must tell her, Luke,” Obi-Wan said softly. “Maybe the memories will come by themselves. Maybe she will retrieve them herself, now that she knows the ways of the Force. Now that she will begin to know herself. But you must nevertheless—tell her.”

Luke met the direct gaze of his former mentor. “I promise.”

“Don’t fail her, Luke,” Obi-Wan said then, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Don’t lose her the way I lost your father. Promise me that you won’t let her fall.”

He smiled vaguely. “But she won’t fall. She survived. She awakened, and then she found you. She has grown strong. My son would have been proud—to see what she has grown to become.

“A hope—that is what she is, what she can be. A beam of light in dark times. One of the only left of her kind, with her abilities—not much unlike yourself.”

_Not the only one._

_But there could have been so many more._

And Luke couldn’t hold back his thoughts, his sorrow, shame and deepest regret.

“I failed, Obi-Wan,” he said, and there was an infinite weight; a deep exhaustion behind his words. “I have not lost her, yet, but I have failed. I was the one who could have rebuilt, recreated. Re-awoken. It was my honour and duty. And I failed them all. I let the Jedi Order shatter. I allowed _him_ to meet his downfall. To become corrupted and twisted by Snoke. My sister’s son, whom I couldn’t save.” _Whom I couldn’t protect from himself._

Obi-Wan’s face was unreadable.

“Darkness still looms over the Skywalker line,” he said.

“I failed him,” whispered Luke again. “I failed them all. She is the only one. There could have been so many more; so many more to rekindle that hope.”

“I have always been to blame for what happened to Anakin,” Obi-Wan said. “I, along with many others. I may have been careless or inattentive, too blind or inexperienced to notice what was happening to your father, too late to help him. In the end, it was not whether I was the weaker master, but that the Emperor’s influence was stronger. The Jedi Order had become weak—and we were as much to blame as the Sith. The dark had become too powerful for me to save Anakin, too twisting and compelling for his already tormented soul.”

As though moved by memory or thought, Obi-Wan’s gaze drifted away. Toward the horizon, and the two suns descending upon a flaming sky.

“You are alike your mother in so many ways, Luke,” he said softly. “Padmé and I—we both loved your father deeply. None of us were strong enough to save him. Yet it was love who saved him in the end, after all.

“Luke,” he said. “Always remember what your master told you. We are _more_ than this—more than these limited sentient minds; more than our fragile, mortal bodies.

“Even us,” he added quietly, and glanced in Luke’s direction, “who have understood the Force and lived in tandem with it, tend to forget those things sometimes.”

And Luke remembered.

And he promised himself, then, never again to forget.

He had told himself it could be righted again—all of it, in one way or another. He had repeated it in his mind, over and over in an attempt to make himself believe it.

But maybe it was true. Everything could change; become at last renewed. Maybe it would all be set right, come true in the strange, slow ways that was the will of the Force. An infinite flickering image of time, of dark and light and balance, and all the pieces and truths and fates would truly come together; all woven and tangled in inexplicable ways.

Then, another well of memories rose to the surface of his mind; a still fresh wound being opened anew. He said, “I can’t believe Han is gone.”

Obi-Wan remained silent, and Luke continued softly, “He was always present somewhere, somehow. He was one of those heroes you’d think would survive. Someone who ought to have survived at all costs.”

But maybe that time was slowly approaching for all of them, he thought. Maybe none of them were meant to survive in the end.

“Those we love and care about never truly leave us,” said Obi-Wan quietly, and Luke saw that the other’s gaze was directed at the darkening town below. There was silence for a long moment as the two who had been master and learner watched, and thought of those who no longer existed in the universe, and those who would someday be swallowed by time as well, and those of whom a part would always remain. One way or another.

“You should try to go and see her,” Luke said at last. Obi-Wan met his eyes. “Your daughter.”

For a moment, the other man looked both doubting and hopeful. “You think she would want to speak to me?”

Luke smiled, and reached out to lay a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder, even though the other possessed no physical body. “I’m certain she will.”

Obi-Wan smiled, and though he didn’t speak more, Luke thought there were once again tears shimmering in the other man’s eyes.

They stood side by side and watched the twin suns, as they at last surrendered to the darkness of night and disappeared behind the dunes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((**TLJ SPOILERS**))
> 
> So, a lot of incredible and extraordinary things happened in this glorious movie Rian has given us - the Force bond is real, Reylo is real, Rose Tico is a Queen, our beloved Resistance people are officially rebel scum, Ben is willing to kill his master for Rey, Rey is ready to put all her faith in Ben, Rey is officially a "Nobody". And so much more. Now, I love the reality of Rey's parents being nobodies. I love it with all my heart, and for so many reasons that I could go on about for a while. I love what it does and what it will mean to the story and the saga as a whole.  
> For my story, though, I imagined it differently, and this original thought is what I wanted to continue with in A Song to the Night. I'm not sure what to say in conclusion, other than I suppose... both are good? Rey is her own person, her own character, after all, and that is what truly matters. She is Rey, and this is what we love her for.
> 
> Anyway - now that this storyline is "concluded", next chapter I promise we'll see more from our precious loves. As always, thank you so much for your continued support; it truly means the world to me. <3


	36. Your Bright Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And I'll use you as a warning sign_
> 
> _That if we talk enough sense then we'll lose our minds_
> 
> "I Found", Amber Run

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Minor descriptions of wounds; violence.

A fierce wind blew over the landscape of rocks and sand, interrupted by tufts of dry grass and wildflowers. The scenery and feel of the wilderness reminded Kylo Ren of something from a memory he had thought long gone. There was the same freshness; the same scent in the air. Of pine and wildflowers and salt. Along with it, a cold note that promised snow.

There was the sound of the sea crashing against the shore deep below, beyond the steep edge of the cliff—it curved inwards in a soft sweep, and the fall to the beach fifty meters below was sudden, the slope void of anything to grasp should one take a step to far. It was as if the sea had once risen with such force and simply taken away that bite of the cliff and the landscape to carry away with its waves.

From what he knew of the world and its inhabitants, they had always been sure to meet the risks of the nature and use it to their advantage. The people were fierce themselves; their hearts travelling far across the seas, flying high with the winds. There were many of these islands dominating the surface of the planet, some of them larger with towns and spaceports, some of them merely rocks protruding from the waves. Most of them connected only by narrow bridges of rope, giving one the impression of walking through thin air. He’d landed his shuttle on a smaller island and walked over a thin bridge that connected it to this larger one.

Some off-worlders thought the Pamarthens to be foolish or mad. Lunatics with a love for everything involving risks and danger.

He had thought it was brilliant. One never truly attained a skill by working with nets and safes—he’d rather anytime cross a swinging bridge of rope fifty meters above the sea, feeling the wind threatening to take control of his every movement as it raged around him; feeling in a certain way irresistibly alive. Yes, he definitely understood what drove these people.

_Pamarthe_. A world of sea and wind, rocks and green and mist.

He didn’t know what had made him set course for this system in particular; this remote corner of the galaxy.

It was as by a simple intuition—a choice of his instincts.

He turned around and looked inwards at the landscape, away from the vast sea stretching below the cliff and over the grassland that covered most of the island, interrupted by thickets of crooked trees. A winding track led towards what appeared to be a village, situated at the bottom of a soft valley. It appeared to be the only sign of settlement, apart from an old inn situated farther up, closer to the edge of the cliff.

The wind tore at the strands of his dark hair. Beneath the mournfully singing wind, the sound of the sea seemed to have grown louder.

Sounds that filled one with… calm.

_Beautiful._

He had thought of this _landscape_ —the cliff and the rocks, the sea, the village below and the dancing grass—to be beautiful; to possess a certain wild beauty of its own.

It had been a long time, he thought, since he’d last looked upon something—anything—as seemingly simple and found beauty; though in the Force, he knew every glimmer of life to be infinitely intricate, bright and glowing.

And only few things and spirits of this universe had ever managed to fill him with something resembling _calm_.

With a last glance to the sea, he squared his shoulders against the wind and began to walk down toward his destination.

________________________

 

The door to the inn slammed shut behind her as Rey stepped into an oasis of warmth.

Her transport had landed in one of Pamarthe’s smaller spaceports less than an hour earlier, on what appeared to be just one of the many connected islands that dominated the surface; some of them vast rock formations towering from the seas.

Not that she knew much about this world at all. From what she’d seen of it during and after they’d touched ground—the weathered green landscape, the sea, the impressive steep cliffs—it was a beautiful place. Strange, new, and wild, in a way that reminded her of Ahch-To. She would probably have stood on that, the edge of the world; watching the churning sea below until nightfall, had she not been drawn towards shelter and warmth by the fierce wind penetrating her too-thin clothes. Then there was also the fact that she hadn’t had a proper meal for the stars knew how long.

Rey could feel in her whole body that it had been a long journey. And the time before hadn’t exactly been given to calm and rest. She’d gotten a few hours of sleep on the transport, but that was about it.

The pleasant, dry warmth of the inn enveloped her like an embrace. She found herself slowly releasing a breath, as if the very atmosphere of the room could make her tired body relax, lighten her head.

The serving room was airy and welcoming, with few enough guests that it didn’t feel packed, but enough that it felt well-used, someplace locals would come to chat and have a pint of ale. The interiors of the room were wooden, the main source of light a crackling hearth at the far wall. It was placed next to the foot of a winding staircase, she saw, which probably led up to rooms reserved for guests. The air inside was filled with the low, pleasant humming of talk from the patrons standing at the bar or sitting at some of the small tables scattered about.

The moment she entered, Rey felt something. A presence, so powerful and bright that it left her stunned, her breath catching, heart stuttering; her gaze instinctively drifting—

A soft cough caught her attention, waking her from her trance. In the bar stood a tall Tarsunt male with a stoic and calm appearance. Rey shook her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts and made her way towards him.

The Tarsunt looked up and gave her a kind smile as she approached.

“To eat or drink, ay?” he asked in lightly accented Basic.

“Just a meal,” she said, producing a few credits from her pocket. “And a room for the night—"

Out of the corner of her eye, she registered movement. She looked instinctively toward a black-clad person standing at the far end of the counter. The figure wore a black cloak with a hood that concealed their features from recognition. Hands clad in black gloves rested on the counter. They stood still, half turned away from her.

She looked around in the room, to the small groups of beings, locals and travelers alike, and saw no one else acting with particular wariness or showing signs of something being amiss. Yet it felt as though the person stood strangely out from the rest, and it appeared that the rest of the inn’s guests had—intentionally or not—given them a wide berth.

Deep inside her, something flared up.

Something tugging at her mind, her being—an energy, a presence—

A _connection_. Like a thin thread, glowing up so brightly, so powerfully that it almost took her breath away.

But… it _couldn’t_ be—

Could it?

Panic rose in her. Whatever had brought her here, whatever instinct she’d followed to this place, part of her was beginning to think it might have been a terrible mistake.

The dark-clad figure slowly inclined his head in her direction.

_Go. Run_ , part of her urged.

_Stay_ , another said. Stronger.

“You’re from afar?” said the innkeeper in a kind voice.

The question once again forced her out of her reverie, and she turned her attention back to the Tarsunt.

She forced a smile. “Yes. I only just arrived here.”

“Ay—always refreshing when travelers come by the area.” A petite woman presumably in her thirties, wearing a light rough spun dress that stood out against her tan skin, came out from behind the bar and put a mug filled with ale and a bowl of stew in front of her. Rey thanked her, and the woman smiled.

“So, where d’you come from?” asked the woman in a melodious voice.

“I—Eriadu,” she said after only a moment of hesitation.

“Ah, so y'know the Outer Rim. You travel alone?”

“Yes. I’m here to visit a friend,” she lied. She paused to eat a spoonful of stew and take a sip of the foaming ale. It was strong enough that she felt heat spreading throughout her body almost instantly.

“Ah.” The woman grabbed a cloth and started polishing some of the glasses on the counter as the innkeeper spoke to another customer. “So your friend lives here?”

“Yes—he lives not far away. One of the surrounding islands. He’s a pilot,” Rey said lightly, all the while struggling to focus on anything beyond her quickening heartbeat.

She cast a brief glance to the side. And stiffened. The person in the dark cloak no longer stood at the opposite end of the bar. She was about to turn around to see if he was still somewhere in the room when the woman behind the counter chuckled and spoke to her again.

“I see, I see,” she mused with an understanding gaze. “Well, I wish you and your pilot friend a very pleasant time together here, once you go to see him.”

Not bothering to speak and convince the woman that her made-up friend was no more than a friend, Rey instead forced what she hoped was a knowing smile and returned the other’s implying look.

_Look around you._

The instinct to run, to fight, to _survive_ , sparked through her, the adrenaline ice in her veins counteracting the warmth of the room and the food.

Yet there was something else too—something that didn’t feel like danger or threat.

The golden tether flared up, illuminating, glowing. And her mind was a turmoil of thoughts, memories, emotions…

As if it all came down to _this_.

_Don’t get too close._

_Run. Stay._

_Too close. Too far._

_Opposite. Equal._

The door to the inn flew open behind her, a gust of cold wind slipping inside before it slammed shut again. She was briefly torn back into the present, hearing the voices of the people who had just entered—from the considerable amount noise they made, and the way their presence changed the tide of the Force in the room, she judged that it must be a larger group.

It wouldn’t be remarkable or odd in itself. But as every other being in the room gradually noticed whomever had arrived, a change seemed to happen in the very atmosphere. People hushed their voices, until it was nearly silent in the room apart from the loud, brutish voices of the newcomers, speaking a language Rey didn’t know. The patrons standing at the bar froze, some with cups or bottles raised half-way to their lips. The innkeeper and the woman behind the bar stopped dead, glass and cloth in hand.

Then Rey saw out of the corner of her eye two male figures, tall and broad, positioning themselves at the bar at her either side.

“ _Anh tökatesh_ —what have we ‘ere?” said the one at her left, his few words in Basic marred by a heavy accent. Rey lifted her gaze a few inches. The men were both human, and at least twice or three times her own size. From what she could see, they were dressed in clothes of rough fabric, dark leather covering their chest and shoulders like armour.

“ _Aehse—lshèh lan_ ,” replied the one at her right, a threatening tone in his voice. “Not from ‘round here, are you?”

“ _Moyentaeq—tökatesh ne sorashe_ ,” said another from the group of newcomers in a hissing voice. The others let out amused chuckles at the remark. They’d moved closer, she sensed. There must be ten of them, at least. Some of them humans, but she also heard the muffled sounds of communication from someone who might be Ithorian. A glimpse of vividly coloured skin and a slight frame. _Twi’lek_ , she thought. A flash of a long, twisted horn protruding from a Koorivar’s skull. They made noise when they moved, their movements random and careless, their weapons clanging against each other, exposing their weaknesses.

“ _Anh_ ,” one of them hissed. “Are you deaf? He asked you a question, foreign one.”

Some of the men moved closer, the murmurings of the others growing louder. No sound came from the other patrons in the room behind her. A few meters away she noticed the innkeeper gripping a glass tighter, as if in resolution.

More rattling of weapons. Apparently they'd grown tired of her presence quickly.

She felt the metallic coolness of the lightsaber against her skin. It felt good, reassuring, and she felt a tingle of anticipation. _I am ready_ , the weapon seemed to sing. She smiled slowly.

“No,” Rey said at last, shifting the handle into a better position in her hand, “you wouldn’t have heard of me yet.”

She whirled around, a shadow of movement, the saber igniting in her grip as a beacon of golden light.

Rey registered the group of towering beings (ten—eleven—twelve of them) surrounding her in a heartbeat—then her eye caught a shadow moving behind them; a shadow becoming a figure, its signature, its movements _familiar_ —

Then came something else, a strange sensation spilling over her like flames of shadow. _Anger_. The trace of a dark, uncontrollable fury, aimed towards an enemy, finding its target here in this room… it struck a chord deep within her, but the emotion wasn’t her own. It came from—

From him.

She heard a distinctive, almost singing sound, followed by an unmistakable fiery crackle—

Then her opponents lurched toward her. She got a glimpse of warning before one of them—the Koorivar—shot forward with great strength, but not enough speed and precision. She drew back and ducked, then regained her position and struck quick as lightning. In an easy movement, she flicked up the saber and severed the Koorivar’s hand from his arm. Beneath his furious growl of pain, she heard movement behind her from someone who carried a number of heavy weapons. Feeling instinctively the positions of all her opponents as ripples in the Force around her, instead of turning to face him, she jerked back her elbow and was rewarded with a satisfying crunch as it collided with the Twi’lek male’s face.

Rey looked up for a moment, briefly wondering why the others seemed to hold back.

Then she heard a shriek of pain from one of them, followed by that distinctive crackling sound.

And she couldn’t keep the truth from herself anymore—it was hurtling toward her; swift, merciless and all-consuming, like an avalanche.

There was a flash of red.

She turned and saw a man—the one who’d first spoken to her—collapse to the floor, the crimson blade that had penetrated him yanked savagely free by its wielder. The remaining members of the group were slowly backing away from their unexpected opponent; this unexpected threat.

The shadow looked up.

Rey looked into the eyes of Kylo Ren.

The fierce, molten bronze of them stared back. It was like looking into a forest fire.

An eon of time had passed since she last felt the weight of that gaze. Or perhaps it had been but a moment—the briefest fraction of a second. Nothing could have changed.

_Everything_ could have changed.

Everything could have been turned upside down, remade, born anew.

They looked at each other in silence, and time held its breath.

Part of her brain took in his appearance. He wore a long travelling cloak over simple black clothes and boots. Perhaps it wasn’t strange that he could have been taken for simply another traveler. How wrong to believe him to be anything close to that. It was a temporary disguise, and it was cracking.

_How?_

His gloved hand held the cross-guard saber in a tense grip. Even as his stance was seemingly casual, the kill coldly nonchalant, his tall figure was unmistakably thrumming with power. His hood had fallen down, revealing wavy dark hair that now reached his shoulders. There were shadows beneath his eyes. And the scar, tracing a stark line across his face, just as she remembered.

His eyes were still burning.

Not with anger, or hostility, not towards her. Those emotions were for her enemies, and they had momentarily faded, given way to something else.

She had the brief sensation that if she closed her eyes now, she would see a line of fire running between them. Connecting them. Maybe it wasn’t far from the truth.

Maybe she had somehow always _known_.

Maybe it would all, truly, come down to this. She had been so intent on keeping the truth from _herself_ ; even as it was right in front of her.

If the Force had possessed a mortal voice, it might have said, _About damn time_.

Time was still frozen in place—the two of them caught in frail sphere of glass between one moment and the next, its walls quivering; waiting to crack so that time could start spilling forward once again.

He was _here_.

Should she feel afraid, threatened?

Rey felt neither of those things. She didn’t think she truly had, for a long time.

After all, hadn’t he just fought for her—saved her? Hadn’t he done it before, and in more ways than she could fathom at that time?

She felt as though something cold and heavy within her fractured, gave way. Surrendered.

Hadn’t she herself witnessed more sides and hidden facets of Kylo Ren than for him to be called, truly, her enemy?

Memories rushed back to her in a tidal wave. She thought of the last time they’d parted, standing in the open air, the wind howling around them; his lone figure on the lowered shuttle ramp, herself drifting still farther away as she escaped in the _Falcon_ … There had been a gap of nothingness between them then; oh so swiftly expanding into infinities.

Now there was a dead body between them.

_So we meet again—_

The sound was sudden, yet the words were soft-spoken in that deep voice. A voice she’d somehow come to know so well. In dreams. In visions. Everywhere in her memories and thoughts. So that, she suddenly thought, maybe she ought to have realized the truth far sooner.

His gaze was still fixed on hers, but his lips had not moved, and she realized that the voice had sounded inside her head.

_… bright one._

Her mind stilled, stunned. Noticing every detail of his face, his expression, she saw how his lips parted ever so slightly, as if he wanted to say the words out loud. Something like devastation, melancholy.

Rey breathed in, her lips parting as she instinctively stepped closer—

Around her was a blur of movement as the glass sphere broke, and time spilled forward. It could only have been a matter of seconds, even if it felt like minutes. Small infinities.

Three of the males had broken free of their perplexed state and were charging toward her.

And it felt like something inside her snapped into focus. Instinctively, she threw out her hand, sending an invisible wave of force toward the attackers. They slammed into the wooden wall, collapsing in a useless pile on the floor—among them the one with the broken nose, his face smeared with dark blood.

She heard a rattling sound, like someone choking and gasping for breath. She turned and saw two of Kylo’s attackers, hovering an inch or two above the ground, clutching and clawing at their throats as the breath was forced out of them. Three others were swiftly backing away, their weapons lowered. They had struck, believing the odds to be in their favor, only now realizing their mistake.

Not just fighting against an enemy. No, he was knowingly fighting _hers_. Fighting with her, for her.

He unclenched his hand with an almost casual wave, the men slamming into the wall, limp as corpses, before collapsing to the floor. The silent onlookers in the room watched the scene in open-mouthed shock.

She sensed the attackers behind her before she saw them.

Whirling around, lightsaber raised as a torch in the night, she prepared to face off the remaining foes.

They had seized their weapons now—they bore everything from heavy axes and daggers to quarter staves, but few blasters from what she could see. Already they were spreading out, encircling her, and it was too late for her to ensure an opening.

They looked resolute rather than frightened—furious for the death of their companion. Or perhaps just for the fact that one slight-looking stranger could have caused them so much trouble.

She urged her mind calm, forcing herself to concentrate, to focus on the task ahead.

Then she felt another presence, shining brighter than the rest, beside her—behind her, standing with her back to back, facing her opponents. And again time seemed to hold its breath, and, for a fraction of a moment, stand still.

There was a scent of ash and sea-breeze around him, followed by a note of something else, something she hadn’t quite noticed before. A lighter scent—like night skies; raindrops on flowers after a storm.

It was like a sense.

And then it struck her.

_It was you_ , she thought instinctively, like a whisper.

And he replied, _It was always me, bright one._

Again, Rey thought she felt something within her shatter; a tightening feeling in her chest, her eyes burning. But she forced herself to focus as their opponents lurched forward.

It might only have been a matter of seconds. Within that moment Rey became a whirlwind—something simpler and purer than a being of blood and bone; something greater. She was a sandstorm in motion, her lightsaber a song of golden fire. And beside her, _he_ fought the same. Moving like a shadow in moonlight, a storm crackling with electricity, the cross-guard saber a blur of crimson and sparks guided by his hand.

_Opposite. Equal._

Around them, the inn’s guests still stood frozen in silence, clustered together as they beheld the fight—brawl seemed an ill-fitting word. In her almost tranquil state of mind, Rey thought of what now seemed a distant memory, and wondered what a strange sight it must be, like something out of a story almost forgotten. Maybe _they_ would become another story.

In the end, their opponents gave up trying to hold their position, finally realizing they were—in some undeniable way—outnumbered. Some had already made their escape through the door.

Six stood left, most of them injured, clutching their wounds to stop the blood or standing with difficulty after a blow to the head. Rey had not hurt to kill. Their initiating an assault on her in the first place was merely a foolish mistake on their part—one they might hopefully learn from (she had, as efficiently as she could, reduced the weapons they carried to rubble). The body of their leader still lay on the floor.

They stood, facing each other, the only sound the humming of the lightsabers—for some reason not attempting to escape. Perhaps they still maintained some semblance of foolish pride.

Watching her—and him, who now stood at her side, close enough to touch yet consciously, carefully, it seemed, not touching. Tall and silent as a late shadow.

Her lightsaber still ignited in her grip, Rey filled her voice with stoic calm as she said, “ _You will leave this place, and these people, alone. You will **stay** away. You will leave this area, and never again return to cause trouble._ ”

It wasn’t mind manipulation, not really. It was perhaps a sliver of it, along with the sheer power of her voice, willing them to listen. They had no chance but to obey. One by one, they stumbled out into the fierce weather, leaving nothing behind but the lifeless body of their leader.

Rey finally deactivated the saber and released a long breath. Beside her, he did the same.

She was unhurt, but she felt weighed down, numb. She couldn’t think of—she couldn’t _think_.

She saw him turning towards the innkeeper behind the bar, the Tarsunt who had talked to her before. He, along with the woman, were staring wide-eyed—in disbelief, and something else, she thought, rather than fear.

In a low, calm voice that shattered the silence, Kylo said, “We apologize for your trouble.”

His tone and composure were indifferent, casual almost.

He gestured with a gloved hand to the body on the floor.

Rey felt the cracks inside her widen; the edges splintering and cutting like glass. An abyss seemed to yawn open within her.

As she stood with the suffocating sensation of falling into an endless void, all the held back thoughts and sensations flooded her mind once more. She thought she might drown.

As if sensing her distress, Kylo turned toward her, his eyes wide and pleading; already reaching out, calling for her—

Without giving away any warning, she bolted for the door, and for freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I think it's safe to say that it's been a while. Dear readers, I so deeply apologize for this long break. A lot of things has been going on in my life, and I guess my mind needed a little break from this story. But here were are again. I'm beyond excited to take this story further-- things are about to reach a crucial point.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this installment! If you liked, please let me know in the comments!
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr! my user is starlightsquadron


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